

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap.IP2-3Copyright No. 

Shell. ^.£>4 6 J 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 











THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


A NOVEL 


BY 

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FRANC BUSCH 

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New York : 

WILLIAM PAULDING CARUTHERS, Publisher, 
156 Fifth Avenue. 


1896. 


Copyright, 1896, 

BY 

WILLIAM PAULDING CARUTHERS. 


All rights reserved . 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


I. 

One lovely day in June of the year 
1843, St. John’s Park in the City of New 
York was looking its very best. Delight- 
fully cool and inviting — quiet, too, was 
this little retreat, remote from the rush 
and roar of the busy thoroughfares. This 
Park was situated within a square formed 
by Laight and Beach, Varick and Hud- 
son Streets. Its vicinity was, in those 
days, the home of many wealthy and 
aristocratic families, who lived there un- 
til they were fairly pushed northward by 
the great tidal wave of the city’s pros- 
perity. Central Park, New York’s pride 
of to-day, had not been laid out; but 
even now, in all those acres for which Na- 
ture and Art have done so much, and 
which is a master-piece of landscape gar- 
dening, it is doubtful whether there can 


4 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA . 


be found trees so fine and large as those 
which fell beneath the axe when St. 
John’s Park was ruthlessly wiped out 
of existence. It was not open to the 
public. Its frequenters were those only 
who paid the annual rate charged for the 
enjoyment of the Park privileges, and 
who were provided by the trustees with 
keys of admittance. 

On this particular day, a woman ac- 
companied by a little girl about twelve 
years old might be seen walking along 
the south side of the square. When 
they came to the entrance she drew a 
large brass key from her pocket, opened 
the gate and entered, followed by the lit- 
tle girl. They wended their way along 
through the shaded walks, seemingly in 
no haste to find a seat. Finally they 
chose one under a large tree in the north- 
east corner. The child carried a doll in 
her arms. She placed it upon the bench 
in a sitting position, then seated herself 
by the side of the old woman. 

Children were playing about the foun- 
tain; and here and there were groups of 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA . 5 

people. There was no one else in this 
corner. They were as much alone, save 
for an occasional passer-by, as if they 
were in their own private grounds. They 
were a singular pair, and would have at- 
tracted attention anywhere. The woman 
had nearly reached her three score years 
and ten, and she looked even older. Her 
hair, what little of it could be seen under 
a bonnet queer and ancient looking even 
in those days of coal scuttle-shaped bon- 
nets, was silvery white; and the face was 
deeply lined. The eyes only retained 
something of the lustre of youth, being 
unusually keen and bright. Her fea- 
tures were of a peculiar cast. It would 
have been difficult to tell to what na- 
tionality she belonged, for, although she 
spoke English fluently, she seemed en- 
tirely unlike the women of that country. 
The firm square chin and the set lines 
about the mouth gave to the face a some- 
what severe expression; but the kindly 
manner in which she looked at the child 
by her side, and the gentle tones of her 
voice when she addressed her now and 


6 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

then, bespoke an affectionate nature. She 
was clothed in a dark brown poplin dress, 
made with a full plain skirt and old-fash- 
ioned ‘body;’ while over the shoulders 
and folded across her bosom was a ker- 
chief of snowy linen. Her general ap- 
pearance and her manner indicated her 
position as nurse; yet there was some- 
thing out of the ordinary about her, which 
would give one the impression that she 
was something more. Could one have 
heard her conversation with her charge 
one would easily have seen that she had 
received a better education than her posi- 
tion implied. She drew some knitting 
from a silken bag hanging on her arm; 
and the needles seemed fairly to fly so 
rapidly did she knit, listening the while 
to the little girl as she entertained herself 
carrying on a conversation with her doll 
in her own pretty childish way. This 
child was very lovely, quaintly and richly 
dressed in a frock not unlike those seen 
on children of the present day, made with 
a short waist and long skirt, which just 
grazed the ground when she walked; it 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 7 

quite concealed the dainty slippered feet 
as she sat on the bench. She wore a 
poke-shaped, leghorn bonnet fastened by 
wide ribbons tied under the chin. Her 
hair, which was of a rich, brown color, 
fell in soft, fluffy waves below her waist. 
Her eyes were dark and lustrous, with 
lids drooping at the corners and fringed 
with long, curling lashes. Her features 
were delicate and high bred ; and her com- 
plexion, though somewhat pale, was clear 
and pure. 

“Lispeth,” said the child, drawing 
nearer the old woman, “tell me about the 
time when you were a little girl like me ; 
about the house where you were born — 
the fields, the woods, and all the other 
nice things you know.’ , 

“Fie! Leonora, child ! You have heard 
it so many times. I dare say you could 
tell it all to me now.” 

“O, but I do so like to hear about it, 
Lispeth, dear; please do,” said the child 
in coaxing tones, which she knew the old 
woman could never resist. “I will begin 
for you, so it will be easy. In a beautiful 


8 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

little valley by the side of a clear stream 
there stood a low stone house with a roof 
of red tiles — now go on, please, Lispeth, 
tell all about the lambs playing in the 
meadows ; and do not forget the cunning 
little chickens, and the proud pea fowl 
with his beautiful spreading tail.” 

With a smile which lighted up the grim 
old face the kind hearted woman took 
up the tale so often told, but which never 
seemed to grow old to her young listener, 
whose greatest delight was to hear every- 
thing pertaining to a life of which she 
knew nothing, having lived since she 
could remember within the narrow con- 
fines of four brick walls, with never a 
glimpse of anything like the country save 
what she saw in this small Park. 

They remained sitting there a long 
time; the child listening with eyes alight 
in the interest of the story, ready to re- 
fresh Lispeth’s memory, if she should for- 
get a single part; and giving vent, now 
and then, to an expression of glad sur- 
prise should the old woman chance to 
think of something new to tell, as she 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 9 

lived over again the years of her child- 
hood passed in that dear old home be- 
yond the seas. 

They were undisturbed in their corner. 
So absorbed were they in their own 
pleasure that they did not seem to notice 
the few who passed that way. Two la- 
dies came along the path dressed in the 
fashion of the day — in large bonnets and 
gowns whose skirts were ruffled to the 
waist, and set out by hoops so wide that 
it required the whole width of the walk for 
them to pass. The lady on the side 
towards the occupants of the bench came 
so near that her skirt brushed against 
them, and her attention was called to the 
child first, by one of her bursts of enthu- 
siasm, then, by her remarkable beauty. 

“Did you ever see such a lovely child?” 
she asked quickly of her companion. 

“She is certainly a beautiful little 
thing,” was the reply. “She is a Jewess.” 

“Are you quite sure? She does not 
look like a Jewess. Neither does the old 
woman with her.” 

“O, yes, I am quite sure. Her name 


10 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

is Leonora Arnstein. She lives next 
door to us ; and I see her very often. She 
leads a strange life for a child. Her 
father is very strict with her, and will not 
allow her to have any associates even 
among her own faith. She never visits 
other children, and is not permitted to in- 
vite them to her home. Her only com- 
panion is that queer looking old woman.” 

“Let us pass that way again,” said the 
first speaker. “The old woman seems to 
be very kind to the child,” she remarked, 
when they were again beyond ear-shot. 

“Yes, she is perfectly devoted to her. 
I have sometimes seen her in their back 
yard playing like a child with her little 
charge. She seems to have care of the 
house also. I have often tried to make 
her acquaintance when we have met at 
market, for the little girl interests me; 
but the woman repels all my advances.” 

The ladies passed on. Leonora sat 
quietly for a few moments; then she said 
in wistful tones: — 

“O, Lispeth, I wish we might live in 
the country. Why does not father take 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 11 

us sometimes? I would like to play in 
the fields and woods. How nice it would 
be to have some cows, and some dear lit- 
tle chickens; and O, perhaps a pony to 
ride! Do you think I will go to the 
country some day, Lispeth?” 

“Yes, child, of course you shall. Old 
Lispeth will find a way to take you.” 

Just then some little girls came along. 
One of them spoke to Leonora and asked 
her to join their play. 

“Yes, go, dearie,” said the old woman. 
“I will call you when it is time to go 
home.” The little girl ran off while Lis- 
peth muttered something about the poor 
child having few pleasures so dear to 
childish hearts. 


12 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


II. 

The afternoon wore away. It was 
five o’clock. Lispeth was nodding over 
her knitting when she was suddenly 
brought to herself by hearing a voice, 
which she knew only too well, speaking 
her name. It was three months since 
she had heard that voice and it caused 
her to turn quickly in the direction of the 
sound. Just outside the Park, as near as 
possible to the bench where she was sit- 
ting, stood a man, who said in peremp- 
tory tones: — 

“Bring me the key, Lispeth. I wish 
to enter.” 

“Yes, master.” 

The old woman arose and handed him 
the key through the palings. By the 
time he had admitted himself and joined 
her, Lispeth was quite composed and 
knitting busily. 

“You were not expecting to see me to- 
day, I suppose. Where is the child?” 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 13 

“Playing with some school-mates by 
the fountain. I did not know when to 
expect you,” said Lispeth, keeping her 
eyes fixed on her work, seemingly indif- 
ferent to everything save the heel she was 
just turning. 

There was silence for a few minutes. 
The man looked carefully about him to 
see if there was anyone near enough to 
hear their conversation. People were 
beginning to leave the Park, and they 
were entirely remote from the few who re- 
mained. It would not have been easy for 
persons generally to judge of this man’s 
age. He was one of those, who, by as- 
siduous care in dress, try to appear 
younger than they are. He succeeded to 
a certain extent; but there are many ways 
by which Nature betrays the imprints of 
time, and a close observer would set him 
down for sixty. His was not a pleasing 
countenance. The features were too sharp 
and there was an expression in the dark 
eyes, gleaming from beneath heavy, over- 
hanging brows, which would make one 
instinctively shrink from opposing his 


14 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

will. One glance from those eyes when 
opposition roused the hidden fire within 
would have the effect of subduing a 
strong nature even; while one naturally 
timid would cower and yield through fear, 
or seek to escape his power. His hair 
and mustache were carefully dyed. He 
was almost foppish in his attire ; yet there 
was a nicety in all the appointments of his 
dress which displayed good taste. His 
general appearance was that of a gentle- 
man and a man of wealth. 

“I have returned without the casket,” 
he said in a low tone. 

“Yes?” returned Lispeth indifferently, 
while the needles flew; but the sudden 
light in the keen eyes might have ex- 
pressed joy or triumph; certainly any- 
thing but indifference. It passed unno- 
ticed by the man and Lispeth added 
quickly, — “You worked in the wrong di- 
rection, perhaps.” 

“By no means. We found the place 
where it was hidden, but it was known to 
someone before us. It had been taken 
away.” 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA 15 

“How is it ever to be found then?” 
asked Lispeth. 

“It shall be found,” said the man in 
quick, decisive tones. “My journey has 
not been entirely fruitless. We have a 
clue to the person who forestalled us; 
and that clue shall be followed up until 
the casket is in my possession.” 

Had the man turned and looked at the 
woman by his side, he would have noticed 
the sudden tightening of the thin lips. 
The needles seemed to fly faster than be- 
fore. Sh6 spoke, but the words came 
slowly as if she feared to betray her emo- 
tion. 

“What reason have you to think that 
you have really found its former hiding 
place?” 

“A sure proof in the fact that we found 
the iron chest in which it had been placed, 
and in that chest a tiny key; also a draw- 
ing of the casket with a minute descrip- 
tion of the mechanism of the lock. The 
person who took the casket left those 
things in her haste.” 

Lispeth noticed that the man said her 


16 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

haste, and for the first time the needles 
paused in their mad combat. Her lips 
moved, but no sound came from them. 
She dared not speak, but stooped to pick 
up Leonora’s doll, which had fallen to the 
ground by a sudden movement on the 
part of the man, as he shifted his position 
on the bench. Most fortunate was the 
occurrence, for he turned his eyes full 
upon her suddenly, but saw no signs of 
her former agitation. “Yes,” he contin- 
ued, “she left them; also a clue by which 
she can be traced. Then, when the cas- 
ket with its precious contents is mine — 
well, never mind what then.” 

“But the casket belongs to the child,” 
ventured Lispeth as she gave her master 
a quick side-long glance. 

“Yes, but the child belongs to me, and 
she shall marry among her own people. 
She is being reared in the faith of her fore- 
fathers, and her husband shall be of my 
choosing. He is chosen — my only 
brother’s orphan son who bears my name. 
He will be the head of a family whose 
wealth and power in this country shall be 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 17 

unrivaled. The name of Arnstein shall 
be handed down to posterity and shall be 
known throughout the whole world. It 
will not be many years now before a be- 
ginning can be made; and I shall live to 
see it.” 

The vehemence of the words, and the 
gleam in the fierce dark eyes bespoke the 
intense eagerness with which he looked 
forward to the realization of the great 
ambition of his life. 

Lispeth, whose face had grown white 
even to the lips as she listened, was trying 
to put away her knitting, while the old 
hands trembled, and a look of intense 
fear overspread the features. She was 
striving to hide her agitation lest her mas- 
ter should note the effect of his words 
upon her. He sat musing a while, then 
spoke again, more to himself: — 

“Yes, a woman has found out the se- 
cret and taken away the casket. Of that 
I am quite sure. A man would have 
done it more thoroughly and left no trace. 
We have only to find the mate to the 


18 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

silken mitt which lay beside the iron chest 
to” 

He was interrupted by a sudden cry 
from Lispeth, who was unable to control 
herself at the mention of the silken mitt; 
then, frightened at having betrayed her- 
self, she sprang to her feet. Ere her mas- 
ter could speak, as he turned suddenly 
and looked at her, she said : — 

“Oh! I thought I saw Leonora fall, 
but it was that other little girl.” She 
sank upon the bench again with a deep 
sigh, seemingly relieved that Leonora 
was unhurt, but really at having misled 
her master as to the true cause of her 
fright. By a desperate effort she re- 
gained her composure and the pallor 
faded from her face at the man’s next 
words, — 

“You make a fool of yourself over that 
child, Lispeth; but call her. It is time 
to go home. I see you do not obey my 
instructions — that she is to form no asso- 
ciates about here. I have told you that 
many times; yet I come home and find 
her playing freely with those children.” 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 19 

“This is the child’s birthday and I al- 
low it as a treat. They are some little 
girls who attend Madame Le Roc’s 
school. It shall not occur again,” said 
Lispeth, so relieved that this reproof of 
her master fell lightly upon her. Walk- 
ing along the path she called Leonora, 
who came quickly at her bidding. Her 
face was flushed with exercise and her 
eyes sparkled with the enjoyment of her 
play with companions of her own age. 
Rare indeed was a chance like this. She 
did not notice the man sitting on the 
bench until he came forward and greeted 
her. She stopped suddenly in her ani- 
mated description of the games they had 
played and looked at him in surprise. 
She gave him her hand timidly, saying: — 

“You have come back. I am glad to 
see you safe, father.” 

The joy quickly faded from her face, 
and, taking Lispeth’s hand, she walked 
demurely by her side as they all wended 
their way home. 

They entered a house on a street in the 
immediate neighborhood of St. John’s 


20 THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 

Square; a house built before the time of 
long monotonous rows of brown stone 
fronts, which, during the past fifteen 
years, have given place in their turn to 
a more varied and far more pleasing style 
of architecture, thanks to the advent of a 
number of architects who are true artists. 
This three-story and attic house, built of 
red brick, if preserved to-day, would hold 
its own as a work of architectural beauty 
with any built during the following forty 
years, which brought so many and such 
rapid changes in a city now spoken of as 
the possible future metropolis of the 
world. 

The entrance door of this old New 
York house was beautiful. Over the 
door itself was an arch, elliptical in shape, 
under which was an arched fan-light. 
The lintels were delicately decorated; 
and the handsome railings and high open 
posts or newals, which flanked the foot of 
the flight of stone steps leading to the 
door, were of iron all wrought out by 
hand. 

This house had been built by a rich 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 21 

merchantman about twenty years before 
our story opens. He had spared no ex- 
pense in the interior decorations; and it 
would have been difficult to find in that 
day a more beautifully carved mantel than 
could be seen in its spacious drawing' 
room. To-day we see them patterned 
after those elegant and artistic mantel 
pieces, with their slender pillars and 
carved fronts, over which the simply 
moulded shelf projects; and as a result 
they give to a room something of the ele- 
gance and homelikeness of those old days 
before the appearance of the cold, stiff- 
looking marble mantels, which came in 
with the equally cold and sombre brown - 
stone fronts — called homes (?). 

In the year 1833, after the loss at sea of 
two of this merchantman’s ships, his name 
disappeared from the door of this noble 
looking home in old New York, and a 
new silver plate shown in its place, bear- 
ing the name of Enos Arnstein. He was 
a Hebrew, who came to this country 
about that time, and established himself 
as a jeweler and diamond merchant. 


22 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


III. 

Lispeth was sitting in a curtained al- 
cove adjoining a large handsome room 
over the drawing-room. There were two 
single beds in this alcove and in one of 
them Leonora lay asleep. The woman 
waited until she could hear the soft regu- 
lar breathing of her little charge in sound 
slumber. Then she arose, drew the cur- 
tains together, and, taking up a lighted 
candle from the table, she entered a large 
clothes-press at the farther end of the 
room. She seated herself on the floor 
beside an old leather trunk, and, slipping 
a small key from a slender chain worn 
around her neck, she quickly unlocked 
it and raised the lid. She placed the can- 
dle on the floor, and began taking out va- 
rious articles until she held in her hand 
a box containing odds and ends. She 
tumbled things over in nervous haste and 
finally brought to light a delicate silken 
mitt. This she quickly thrust into her 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 23 

bosom and continued to empty the trunk 
of its contents. There lay strewn about 
her articles of attire, which would have 
puzzled one to decide as to what period 
in the age of woman they belonged. Rais- 
ing herself to a kneeling position Lispeth 
lifted out what seemed to be the bottom 
of the trunk, but it was only a thin board 
covered with the lining, which fitted 
closely over the bottom. Two letters ly- 
ing side by side were disclosed to view. 
She took them out and held them in her 
hand some time, while a smile overspread 
her features, and a warm light glowed in 
her fine dark eyes. One of the letters 
bore a foreign postmark; the seal had 
been broken and it was addressed to 
“Karl Sturmer.” 

The other letter bore no postmark 
whatever, and the seal still remained un- 
broken. The direction read — 

“To my daughter, 

Leonora Sturmer.” 

Lispeth slipped the letters into her 
pocket, and then began replacing the 
contents of the trunk. This finished and 


24 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

the trunk locked once more, she with- 
drew to the outer room. She seated her- 
self by a table, on which lay a capacious 
work-basket. From its depths she pro- 
duced a piece of oil silk, and was soon oc- 
cupied in making a case of double thick- 
ness large enough to hold the letters. 
She drew them from her pocket, slipped 
them into the case, and was about to sew 
up the end when a thought seemed to 
strike her. She took them out again. 
Her hand sought the bosom of her dress 
and she drew from its hiding place the 
silken mitt. She laid it between the two 
letters; then, after tying a cord securely 
around them, she slipped the little parcel 
into the oil silk case and carefully sewed 
up the end. Her task completed she ex- 
tinguished the light and seated herself 
beside the window. 

It was growing late. The streets be- 
came quiet. The foot-steps of passers- 
by were few and far between. Still Lis- 
peth sat there in the moonlight of this 
lovely night in June. A clock in the neigh- 
borhood struck eleven, when the sound of 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 25 

a familiar footstep reached her ear. The 
street door closed and she heard the same 
foot-steps on the stairs. Then a door on 
the second floor closed, and Lispeth 
knew that her master was in his room 
and would soon retire. Still another 
hour she waited; then, taking off her 
shoes, she stole softly from the room 
with the unlighted candle in her hand and 
the parcel so precious to her in her 
pocket. She paused before her master’s 
door and listened, then placed her eye to 
the key-hole. Satisfied by the silence and 
darkness within that he slept, she crept 
stealthily along till she reached the stair- 
case. Guiding herself by the ballustrade 
she descended one flight, then another, 
and disappeared in the darkness below. 

The next morning after Leonora had 
been conducted to school, and Lispeth 
had returned from market, she was sum- 
moned to her master’s presence. He was 
sitting in a handsome paneled room on 
the first floor; a room devoted exclusively 
to his own use, and seldom entered by any 
one save himself. A square table stood 


26 TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

in the center of the room. Its surface 
was nearly covered by a large map over 
which Mr. Arnstein had been poring for 
several hours. At his elbow lay a paper 
containing rows of figures. 

There was perfect repo'se in Lispeth’s 
manner this morning, and she met the 
piercing eye or her master unflinchingly, 
as he told her that he wished to talk with 
her on an important subject, and that he 
had some questions to ask her. She 
seated herself at his bidding and waited 
for him to begin. 

“You have been in my employ just nine 
years,” said Mr. Arnstein, as he pushed 
back his chair and faced this woman who 
served him, and yet towards whom he en- 
tertained a feeling he could not have de- 
scribed. Had any one told him that 
there was one person in this world whom 
he feared he would have scoffed at the 
idea; nevertheless in his own secret 
heart he knew that here was a woman 
who was always subservient to his wishes 
and devoted to his. interests, yet who held 
him somewhat in her power. Perhaps 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 27 

it was because he knew she understood 
him thoroughly, while he had never been 
able to fathom this strange woman’s na- 
ture. Once only had he tried to rid him- 
self of her, thinking to place Leonora in 
charge of a younger person. He learned 
then what force lay hidden behind this 
woman’s taciturnity, and, thoroughly 
baffled in the attempt, he never made 
another. This morning his mind was oc- 
cupied with the one great scheme of his 
life, and Lispeth was to him only as a 
factor towards its success. He did not 
carefully weigh his words when he 
asked : — 

“How long did you serve that Chris- 
tian dog?” 

“Who, sir!” exclaimed Lispeth angrily, 
while her eyes flashed fire. 

Her master hastened to propitiate her, 
for he feared lest she might relapse into 
one of her sullen moods, with which he 
was familiar; then he knew he could get 
nothing from her. 

“There — there, never mind the expres- 
sion. You know the very mention of 


28 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

that man’s name is hateful to me. I will 
put the question differently. How long 
were you in the employ of Leonora’s 
parents?” 

“Seven years less three months,” re- 
plied Lispeth calmly, for she had a secret 
to guard, and she realized that it would 
require all her self control to answer her 
master’s questions in such a way that he 
would remain in ignorance of it. 

“Leonora was one year old when her 
mother died,” resumed Mr. Arnstein. 
She was three when I claimed her after 
her father’s death. He survived his wife 
about a year, so the child must have been 
in your care for nearly a year after that. 
How long had you been in this country 
when you entered their employ?” 

“Only a short time until I found — Lis- 
peth hesitated a moment — 'employment,’ 
she finished. They were my first 
and only employers in America.” 

“And before that?” asked her master. 

“What matters it? I served them 
faithfully, and I promised to watch over 
and care for their little one so long as my 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 29 

life should last. And I will do it. You 
know whether or not I have kept that 
promise during these nine years.” 

“Yes, yes, I know you have. But 
whenever I touch upon your past life you 
will say nothing, save that you are of 
Jewish parentage. I suppose it does not 
matter. You possess a good education, 
and I have sometimes thought you might 
not have been in service prior to your 
coming to America.” 

“You are mistaken. I had been in ser- 
vice many years.” 

“Yet the exact nature of that service 
you will not disclose. Your past seems 
to be a closed book. Well, so let it re- 
main if you choose. I care not. My 
particular reason for questioning you to- 
day is because I think you can be of as- 
sistance to me in finding the silken mitt; 
in other words, in tracing the woman who 
obtained possession of the casket and — 
where are you going?” asked her master 
quickly as Lispeth arose. 

“I wish to change my seat. The light 


30 TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

from that window is too strong for my 
eyes.” 

Lispeth seated herself so that her face 
would be in shadow. Mr. Arnstein con- 
tinued: 

“I wish you to let your memory travel 
backward, and see if you can tell me any- 
thing concerning a woman whose history 
I will relate, at least as much of it as I 
have been able to learn. From your own 
statement it is plain that you entered my 
daughter’s employ about eight months 
after her marriage and flight to this coun- 
try. Tell me who were the members of 
their household during the following 
years.” 

“Only Herr Sturmer, his wife, and my- 
self during the first five years. Then Le- 
onora was born, and a maid-of-all-work 
was added to that household.” 

“There was no other person living with 
them?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Strange indeed,” said Mr. Arnstein 
partly to himself. After a pause he re- 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 31 

sumed,“Can you tell me, Lispeth, whether 
my daughter and her husband ever spoke 
of the homes they left in the old coun- 
try? Did they talk over their affairs in 
your presence? You seemed to have 
been much to them. No doubt they 
trusted you implicitly.” 

Lispeth’s eyes flashed once more. She 
hesitated ere she spoke. 

“They had no reason to distrust me, 
sir. Yes, they talked freely of their af- 
fairs. They had done nothing to be 
ashamed of, and they never felt a pang of 
regret; for they were perfectly happy in 
their love. Your daughter seldom spoke 
of her old home.” Lispeth answered 
that question fearlessly; for she knew, al- 
though her master turned somewhat un- 
easily in his chair, and a dark frown gath- 
ered upon his brow, that he would keep 
his temper, when so much depended upon 
it. “But,” she continued, “Herr Sturmer 
always spoke most lovingly of the ‘Dear 
Fatherland’ as he was fond of calling it, 
and of his old home there. He liked to 


32 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

tell stories of his boyhood days, and all 
the inmates of his father’s household were 
known to us, even the humblest servant 
in his employ.” 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 


33 


IV. 

This last information seemed to give 
Mr. Arnstein much satisfaction. He sat 
lost in thought for some time; finally he 
said : — 

“Now listen attentively to what I have 
to relate, then, when I have finished, I 
wish you to tell me all you know concern- 
ing a certain member of the Sturmer 
household. My daughter married with- 
out my knowledge a young student of 
the University of Berlin. She did not 
even ask my consent, for she knew that 
it would never be obtained. No, never ! 
Had a son of the royal family, attracted 
by my daughter’s marvellous beauty, 
sought her hand in marriage, it would 
have been refused him! No good can 
ever come from the union of a Christian 
and a Jew!” Mr. Arnstein brought his 
fist down with violence on the table be- 
fore him, and his eyes gleamed fiercely 
as he continued. 


34 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

“The fact that she, reared as she had 
been, should have left her father’s roof, 
and renounced the sublime faith of her 
ancestors, to become the wife of a Chris- 
tian, made it perfectly justifiable in me to 
cast her off; and in Herr Sturmer to dis- 
own a son, who would have brought into 
his own proud family a daughter of a 
race, against which his prejudice was too 
strong ever to be overcome. I took no 
pains at that time to learn anything con- 
cerning the family of my daughter’s hus- 
band. I heard only that she had married 
Karl Sturmer, the son of Herr Felix 
Sturmer by his second wife. I desired 
to forget that I had a daughter. And so 
the years slipped by. The news reached 
me of Felix Sturmer’s death and of his 
strange freak of selling certain valuable 
estates, placing the proceeds in gold with 
Karl’s mother’s jewels into a casket, 
which also belonged to his second wife, 
and hiding it so that all search for it 
proved fruitless. He must have softened 
towards his youngest son, and forgiven 
him after a while, for, although he could 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 35 

never bring himself to recognize his Jew- 
ish wife, or acknowledge as his grand- 
children any issue of that marriage, he 
wished to give him the means of living, 
somewhat in accordance with the manner 
in which he had been reared. He was 
never heard to mention his son Karl’s 
name, and, while it was known that he 
had sold those estates, what disposition 
he made of the proceeds was never 
suspected until the settlement of his 
affairs after his death. He was a very 
systematic man always, and each portion 
of his large wealth was accounted for, 
save the money from those estates; but 
the clause — “I leave to my son Karl his 
mother’s jewel casket and all it contains; 
he knows where to find it” — settled it in 
the minds of the other two heirs, a son 
and a daughter by Herr Sturmer’s first 
wife, as to the portion which had been 
set aside for their young step-brother by 
the eccentric old man. It was believed 
that Felix Sturmer wrote to his son of 
this provision made for him, and told 
him where to find the casket. That Karl 


36 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

would hasten to claim his inheritance on 
being apprised of his father's death was 
never for a moment doubted; but months 
went by and he did not come. Then 
there were many surmises concerning the 
casket. Some believed that Karl had 
come in disguise and carried away his in- 
heritance; others would have it that Felix 
Sturmer had hidden it in some place 
where his son could find it without going 
near his old home, — all believed that the 
casket was in Karl’s possession, and 
search for it was abandoned. After some 
time inquiries were instituted, and it was 
ascertained that he was dead — that his 
death occurred three months prior to his 
father’s. I then made up my mind to 
come to New York in search of my 
daughter. I wished to know the truth 
concerning the casket, and whether there 
were any children to inherit their father’s 
share of the Sturmer wealth. I found 
that my daughter, too, was dead. You 
know the rest — how I, as the rightful 
guardian, claimed her child, and how I 
have sought to find the treasure which is 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 37 

to make her rich. It was then that I 
formed the plan of giving her the name 
of Arnstein through marriage with my 
nephew and only living relative. Also 
by combining her wealth with mine, 
which is considerable, make the name of 
Arnstein a power in the next generation. 
She is called by my name now because 
hers is hateful to me; but she shall bear 
it legally in a few years.” 

Mr. Arnstein paused and seemed lost 
in thought for several minutes. Lispeth 
remained silent waiting for him to re- 
sume his narrative. Finally he roused 
himself and said, — 

“But to continue. When it be- 
came known that Karl was dead, 
and that all the surmises concern- 
ing the casket were wrong, the search for 
it was renewed; but to no purpose. Years 
went by and I learned, about a twelve 
month since, that the eldest son of Felix 
Sturmer had died leaving no children to 
inherit the beautiful home, which had de- 
scended from father to son through many 
generations; and that he had made his 


38 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

sister’s only child his heir. My informa- 
tion came through a friend, who has been 
untiring in his vigilance for me, through 
these nine years, of all that has transpired 
in the Sturmer family. He wrote that 
the way was clear for him to begin his 
search for a clue to the hiding place of 
the casket, as the house would be unoccu- 
pied for several years save by a man and 
his wife placed in charge. He felt sure 
that some clue must exist; and, if he could 
only gain admission to the house, he 
might be able to find what others had 
overlooked — some scrap of paper or 
something to put him on the right track. 
It is not necessary to state how he suc- 
ceeded in gaining admission to the house, 
save that the most powerful of all agen- 
cies — gold, eventually paved the way. 
He did find a clue which required my as- 
sistance in following up. I went to Ger- 
many three months ago. You know the 
result — the hiding place was found, but 
the long sought treasure was gone. 
Then we bent our energies to find out 
who had learned the secret before us; a 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 39 

task by no means easy, although the find- 
ing of the silken mitt led us to believe 
that it was a woman — a woman, too, who 
must have been a member of the Stur- 
mer household. I then began to learn 
all I could of the family — not a difficult 
matter in the case of a family so well 
known. In order to find out some of the 
inner workings of that household during 
the past eighteen years, I sought a former 
servant, who, although she was only a 
young maid at the time of Karl’s mar- 
riage, possessed an excellent memory, 
and a tongue easily set loose at the sight 
of a gold piece, which would buy so many 
comforts for her large family. Before I 
started for home I had learned enough 
to satisfy me as to the woman; but how 
to find her is another thing.” 

Lispeth had spoken not a word 
throughout her master’s narrative. She sat 
motionless in a high-backed armchair; 
her hands lying idly in her lap. Her lips 
were firmly pressed together and she 
seemed to be listening intently. She was 


40 THE JEWESS , LEONORA . 

prepared to answer her master’s question 
which she felt must come. 

“Did you ever hear Leonora’s father 
speak of the woman who served his 
mother in the capacity of a maid, but who 
was really more like a companion to 
her?” 

“Marie Rabowski?” asked Lispeth. 

“The same,” replied her master. 

“Yes, Herr Sturmer spoke of her very 
often. He loved her for she was like a 
mother to him during the years follow- 
ing his mother’s death, which occurred 
when he was eight years old.” 

“I learned,” continued Mr. Arnstein, 
“that Marie Rabowski left the home 
which had sheltered her so many years 
directly after Karl’s marriage, for her po- 
sition there was not an enviable one. 
When Felix Sturmer brought home his 
English wife, she was accompanied by 
this woman, who was ever disliked by 
the servants. They could never bring 
themselves to look upon a paid depend- 
ent as any better than themselves. They 
did not like her because she was not one 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 41 

of them. Her meals were always served 
in the housekeeper’s room; and her life 
was passed entirely apart from them. 
She was devoted to Karl’s mother; and 
there seemed to be some strong bond be- 
tween them. It seems she had promised 
to care for her boy and remain with him 
so long as he should need her. She was 
true to her promise. It was that only 
which kept her in an uncongenial atmos- 
phere. She was never treated very well 
by the other members of the family after 
the death of her mistress. Felix Stur- 
mer’s second wife was disliked by her 
step-children simply because she was 
their stepmother and a foreigner. Al- 
though Marie Rabowski was still a young 
woman when she first went to Germany, 
she was described to me as having hair 
already quite gray, a sad face, and a re- 
served manner. Her name told plainly 
that she was of Polish descent; but she 
spoke English fluently and always called 
England home. Her mistress had 
bequeathed to her a small legacy; and with 
what she had saved, it was said, she could 


42 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

live comfortably all her days. It was 
believed that she returned to Eng- 
land. She was never heard from again, 
although there was a rumor afloat that 
about the time of Felix Sturmer’s death 
she was seen in a small village near by. 
But on making inquiries I could not find 
a person who had seen her. Do you 
know whether her whereabouts were 
known to Leonora’s father? Did he 
ever say where she had taken up her 
abode?” 

“Yes, he received a letter from her 
during the early days of his marriage, 
begging him to go to England and share 
the small cottage she had purchased, as- 
suring him that he could earn a living 
there as well as in America. She knew 
that he was in this country with small 
means, and must depend upon his own 
exertions for support. But he wrote her 
he had come here to chance his fortune 
with the rest, and nothing would induce 
him to leave this land of freedom.” 

“Then they must have kept each other 
informed of their movements,” said Mr. 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 43 

Arnstein. “Do you know in what part 
of England she made her home?” 

“Some place near London, I believe.” 

“You do not know the name, then?” 

“Herr Sturmer knew and he was the 
only one who did know save Marie 
Rabowski herself,” said Lispeth evas- 
ively. 

“Then in England we must search for 
her. It is strange she did not come to this 
country, especially if she obtained pos- 
session of the casket; and I have every 
reason to believe that she was the one 
who carried it away. Nothing was 
known concerning her early life and 
nothing has been known of her since 
she left Germany. If she were so deeply 
attached to Frau Sturmer and her son, 
one would suppose she would try to find 
out whether there were any children 
from that marriage, and return the cas- 
ket to its rightful owner. At any rate, if 
she still lives, she must be found. I wish 
to ask you one more question. The fact 
that Felix Sturmer himself asserted that 
his son knew where to find the casket 


44 THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 

shows that he must have taken some way 
of informing him where it was hidden. 
But when and how that was done has 
always been a question. Probably 
through a letter. The estates were sold 
about two years before his death ; but 
whether he wrote to his son at once, or 
whether he delayed doing so until his 
failing health warned him that his time 
on earth was short, is not known. If he 
delayed it, then Karl died in ignorance of 
his large inheritance, for his death oc- 
curred two months prior to his father’s. 
Do you know whether he received a let- 
ter from his father before he died?” 

“I am quite sure he did not. He never 
gave up the hope that he might hear from 
him; but from the day of his marriage 
until the day of his death he received not 
a line from him or any member of that 
cold-hearted race!” 

Lispeth spoke vehemently, and so far 
forgot herself as to bring her clinched 
fist down with force upon the arm of the 
chair. Her master looked at her in sur- 
prise. She soon recovered herself, and 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 45 

as if to make some excuse for displaying 
such strong feeling, hastened to say, — 

“Herr Sturmer always spoke most af- 
fectionately of his family, and I never 
heard him utter one unkind word about 
those who neglected him so heartlessly. ,, 

“Then he died in ignorance of his fath- 
er’s provision for him? He knew noth- 
ing of the casket?” asked Mr. Arnstein. 

“Yes, he died believing himself still 
unforgiven — still a disowned son.” 

A long silence followed Lispeth’s last 
words. Finally her master said: 

“You may go, Lispeth. This is all for 
the present. No, wait yet a moment,” 
he added, as Lispeth arose. “I wish to 
tell you that Leonora need not attend 
school after this week. She will have no 
more lessons save from her music-master 
until autumn; then she will receive in- 
structions from a daily visiting teacher.” 

“Poor child,” muttered Lispeth, as she 
ascended the stairs on leaving her mas- 
ter’s presence. “She will be cut off en- 
tirely from youthful associates through 
his selfishness. Never mind, there will 


46 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

be one of his commands which she shall 
not obey unless her heart is in it. He 
shall never force my darling into a love- 
less marriage. I know how to prevent 
it.” 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


47 


V. 

Nearly six years have passed away, and 
we find ourselves again in the same Park 
in old New York with its fine large trees 
freshly clothed in robes of tender green. 
The same bench in the northeast corner, 
having for its occupants the same Lispeth 
of old and her charge. So little changed 
is Lispeth that one can hardly realize how 
long a time it is since she sat nodding 
over her knitting just as she is doing 
now. It might be the very identical 
sock, too, for all the difference one can 
see. Her costume also is unchanged in 
appearance. The plain brown frock and 
kerchief of snowy linen folded across her 
bosom have a look of freshness. The 
queer shaped bonnet which adorns her 
head alone shows signs of wear. Al- 
though she has reached her seventy- 
fourth year she looks no older than she 
did six years ago. She aged young and 
has looked just the same for years. 


48 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


With Leonora, however, all is differ- 
ent. Those years have seen her transi- 
tion from childhood into womanhood 
with the early promise of great beauty 
fulfilled. She is lovely both in face and 
form, lacking only the color and robust- 
ness which healthful exercise and an out- 
door life can give. She is too slender and 
her pure complexion too pale; yet the 
sweet young face with the lustrous brown 
eyes, which have a way of looking at one 
sometimes with a pleading expression, at- 
tracts and interests those who see her. 
Once when walking with her governess, 
Mademoiselle Rouget, she noticed how 
people looked at her. “O, Mademoi- 
selle, ” she said, “I wish people would not 
stare at me so. What makes them do it?” 
“It is your doleful face. You look as if 
you were going to a funeral,” replied the 
French woman flippantly. And Leo- 
nora, perfectly unconscious of her beauty, 
believed it. Her sensitive nature caused 
her to shrink from the gaze of people, and 
to dread going about more and more. 
Her life during the past three years has 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 49 

been spent in the daily association of a 
woman for whom she had not one grain 
of affection, and whose nature was en- 
tirely antagonistic to her own. She sub- 
missively obeyed Mademoiselle Rouget’s 
instructions, and followed out the course 
of study which her father marked out 
for her, with passive indifference. Be- 
tween Mr. Arnstein and the young girl 
growing up under his protection there 
was not the slightest sympathy. She 
feared him and obeyed him through fear. 
The idea of doing anything to please him 
and looking to him for praise in conse- 
quence of a task well done never entered 
her mind. He selected her governess, 
her music-master, and her dancing-mas- 
ter with great care, then exacted the 
strictest obedience to them. Her re- 
ligious training Mr. Arnstein himself un- 
dertook. He was an orthodox Jew and 
required of Leonora regular attendance 
at divine worship. She was brought up 
to observe the great feasts and fasts of 
the Jewish year. The dietary laws were 
strictly enforced in that household; and 


50 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

the flesh of animals that divide not the 
hoof nor chew the cud never found its 
way there. She has lived in the midst 
of a busy world, yet, by the stern decree 
of him, whom she has been taught to call 
father, she has been entirely cut off from 
all intercourse with it. Her manners are 
more womanly and her intellect more ma- 
ture than most young maidens of her age ; 
due, no doubt to her lack of youthful com- 
panions and pleasures. 

“It is pleasant to be here once again, 
Lispeth, dear,” said Leonora. “I am so 
glad Mademoiselle Rouget has gone. Do 
you think father will soon supply her 
place?” 

At the sound of Leonora’s voice, Lis- 
peth’s bobbing head became stationary, 
and the needles resumed their constant 
click-click. 

“I do not know, my child, what will 
come next. Perhaps a suitable person 
cannot be found just now, and you may 
have the coming summer free from study. 
You need the rest; in fact, you must have 
it.” Lispeth spoke decisively. “Ah!” 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 51 

she continued with a sigh, “if old Lispeth 
could have her way you would be as free 
as a bird.” 

“Little Fraulein Van Wormer was a 
good soul, so kind and gentle always; but 
Mademoiselle Rouget — Ugh! well, I am 
glad she has returned to her ‘dear Paris/ 
1 Father considered her French perfect and 
her manner faultless. I suppose it was 
so.” 

“Yes, dear, and your education is your 
father’s first thought.” 

“I presume it is very important, and I 
love my music. But why have I been re- 
quired to spend two or three hours each 
week for years with a dancing-master, 
learning different positions, making cour- 
tesies, and taking steps until I became so 
tired that at times I fairly detested the 
whole thing? I cannot see the use of 
it.” 

“It is to give you grace, Leonora. I 
suppose your father thinks it will be of 
use to you some day.” 

The young girl was silent a few mo- 
ments. Then she spoke again. 


52 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

“I wish you would tell me about my 
mother, Lispeth. You have said she was 
very beautiful.” 

“Yes, and as good as she was beautiful. 
She was always bright and happy, too.” 

“I do not think I am very happy, Lis- 
peth. I want — well, I do not know what 
I want. A different kind of a life, per- 
haps. I am so lonely at times. Did 
father love my mother, and were they 
happy together?” 

“O, yes, they loved each other dearly 
and were happy — so very happy to- 
gether,” replied Lispeth warmly, ere she 
recollected that she was not speaking of 
the father Leonora knew and believed to 
be her own. 

“I cannot imagine father ever being 
very affectionate. He is always so harsh 
with me. I can never remember his giv- 
ing me a caress. No doubt he is changed, 
but what could have brought it about, 
Lispeth?” 

Lispeth realized as Leonora was speak- 
ing that she had passed the age when 
everything is accepted on trust, in the 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 53 

carelessness of childhood. It came to her 
that now Leonora would think and reason 
for herself, and could no longer be put off 
with evasive answers. She had been oc- 
cupied heretofore with her studies, and 
had spent most of her time with her gov- 
erness, whose custom it was to come 
every morning at nine and remain until 
five o’clock in the afternoon. They prac- 
ticed, read and walked together; in fact, 
the hours passed with Lispeth during the 
six preceding years were comparatively 
few by reason also of the good woman’s 
many cares. But she had been content, 
knowing that her darling was improving 
day by day, growing in grace and beauty, 
with every educational advantage. It 
was only of late that Lispeth had become 
anxious about her. She had seen with a 
heavy heart how pale and languid Leo- 
nora had been growing day by day, and 
her mind had been occupied in trying to 
devise a way for her to have a rest and 
change. When she learned that Made- 
moiselle Rouget intended to marry and 
return to her native land she rejoiced in- 


54 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

wardly, hoping that as summer was so 
near at hand Mr. Arnstein might decide 
not to engage a new governess. Now, 
when Leonora asked this question, Lis- 
peth could not tell a direct falsehood; 
neither could she tell her of the loving 
father, who, on his death-bed, had begged 
her to care for his little one so long as 
she might live, also to teach her to love 
the memory of her parents. Lispeth had 
given her promise and had kept the first 
part of it faithfully ; but she knew that cir- 
cumstances, which no one could have 
foreseen, had arisen to force her to keep 
silence, and allow Leonora to grow up as 
Mr. Arnstein desired — bearing his name 
and calling him father. 

“What makes you silent so long, Lis- 
peth? You have not answered my ques- 
tion,' ” said Leonora. 

“I know child. I cannot answer it 
now. Have faith in old Lispeth, and 
some day she will tell you many things 
which she has been obliged to keep from 
you, and which she must keep yet a little 
while longer.” 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 55 

Leonora turned and looked in surprise 
at the old woman, whose voice trembled 
with emotion as she battled with her in- 
clination to tell her darling the story of 
her parents — of their love and short- 
lived happiness. 

“I do trust you, Lispeth, dear. You are 
always so good to me. But you will tell 
me some day. You know I am no longer 
a child. I will soon be eighteen.” 

“I can make no promise little one,” said 
Lispeth in low gentle tones, “but perhaps 
I will tell you the story of your mother’s 
life on the day you are eighteen.” There 
can be no better time, thought she, and 
no better way than to learn all from my 
own lips. 

“This is the eighth day of May and my 
birthday comes the fifteenth of June, a 
little more than a month away. I shall re- 
mind you, Lispeth, of what you have just 
said.” 

There was silence for some time. It 
was early in the afternoon and there 
were few in the Park. No sound broke 
the stillness in their retired corner save 


56 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

the twitter of birds in the branches over 
their heads, and the click-click of Lis- 
peth’s needles as she sat busily knitting. 

“Lispeth,” said Leonora after a while, 
“it seems to me you are knitting — knit- 
ting always. My earliest recollection of 
you is associated with those same gray 
socks. But are you never going to let 
these dear hands rest,” continued she, 
placing her shapely white hands over the 
old and withered ones of her beloved fos- 
ter-mother. “You must have already knit 
thousands of socks ; and what becomes of 
them is a mystery to me.” 

“To be sure,” returned the old woman, 
“I have knit a great many pairs since 
your childhood to say nothing of the 
years before; but what becomes of them 
need not remain a mystery. I knit them 
to sell, and many dollars have I earned 
thereby.” 

“O, then judging from the socks,” 
laughed Leonora, “you must be very 
rich.” 

“Ah! child, old Lispeth is not poor, 
but she ivill have use for all she can earn.” 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 57 

Troops of children began to gather in 
the Park, having just been released from 
school. Leonora sat watching their 
games for some time. After a while, she 
said: 

“Lispeth, I would like to go home 
now/’ 

“Why, dearie, it is still early, and I 
thought you would enjoy this whole af- 
ternoon in the open air.” 

“I would, but I fear that I am going to 
be ill. I feel quite faint.” 

Lispeth looked quickly at her, and be- 
came alarmed as she saw the sudden pal- 
lor of the young girl’s face. She hastily 
put up her knitting, and going to the 
drinking fountain near by she brought 
some water in a small cup, which she al- 
ways carried with her. Leonora drank 
some and it seemed to revive her. 

“Let us go now. I feel better,” she 
said; but she walked with great effort 
through the Park, and Lispeth saw that 
she would be unable to go even the short 
distance to her home. Begging her to be 
seated on a bench near the entrance, she 


58 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

made her way to the corner and asked a 
boy to call a cab. It was not long before 
one arrived. The cabman lifted the 
drooping girl and placed her within. 
When they reached home the kind-heart- 
ed man followed Lispeth into the house 
with Leonora in his strong arms. He 
carried her upstairs to her own room and 
laid her gently on a low couch saying : — 

“The poor child. It is the heat sure. 
This hot day is out of season.” 

Lispeth paid and dismissed him with 
thanks for his kindness, then turned her 
attention to Leonora. Not a moment too 
soon, for she found the young girl had 
swooned quite away. She hastened to 
remove her outdoor garments, brought 
some water, and then, throwing herself 
on her knees beside the couch, worked 
over her, chafing her hands and bathing 
her face, until the sweet brown eyes 
slowly opened and the color began to re- 
turn to the white lips. 

“You are better now, darling,” said 
Lispeth. “Lie perfectly quiet and I will 
fetch you some wine.” 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 59 

She hurried from the room, and de- 
scended to the dining-room. As she 
passed Mr. Arnstein’s private room, she 
noticed that the door was ajar and heard 
voices within. She proceeded to the din- 
ing-room, poured out a glass of wine and 
was returning upstairs when some words, 
which fell upon her ear, caused her to 
stop in spite of herself and to sink in de- 
spair upon the stairs, where she remained 
long enough to compose herself ere she 
re-entered Leonora’s room. Seating her- 
self by the couch, she said : 

“Drink this wine, dear. It will 
strengthen you.” 

Leonora obeyed and then fell wearily 
back among the pillows. She lay with 
her eyes closed and after a while sank 
quietly to sleep. 

The words which Lispeth had heard 
kept ringing in her ears. She could hear 
again Mr. Arnstein’s voice saying: — 

“This must be settled soon, as I sail for 
Europe the 20th. The visitor’s reply did 
not reach her, but her master’s next 
words filled her heart with dismay — “No 


60 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

that would be impossible, as I take my 
daughter with me ; but I do not intend to 
close my house.” 

Lispeth sat looking at the sleeping 
girl. “She cannot, she shall not go,” 
muttered the old woman. “She shall not 
be dragged over there; perhaps to be 
forced into a loveless marriage to advance 
the interests of one whose sole thought 
is wealth and the power it brings.” She 
sank into a reverie, which lasted till she 
was aroused by voices and foot-steps in 
the hall. She hurried to the window, 
and, looking out, saw Mr. Arnstein and 
his visitor leave the house together. A 
look of determination settled upon her 
face. She made hasty preparations for a 
walk, and, going into the kitchen she 
bade a young maid-of-all-work, who was 
helping the cook prepare dinner, watch 
by Leonora’s side until her return, saying 
she must go for the doctor. 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 


61 


VI. 

Lispeth returned accompanied by a 
tall, gray-haired man with a kindly face 
and gentle manner. Leonora was awake, 
but, on trying to raise herself to a sitting 
position when she saw the doctor enter, 
she found herself so weak that she was 
glad to lie back among the pillows at his 
bidding. He seated himself by her side, 
and soon won her confidence by his kind 
words. 

“It is only because I am so weary, Doc- 
tor — so very weary all the time.” 

“Poor child,” he said in an undertone, 
as he busied himself among his medicines. 
“Too much study for her strength and 
too much confinement for her years.” 
He gave some directions to Lispeth and 
then arose to go, saying he would call 
again in the morning. She followed him 
into the hall and said in anxious tones : — 

“You will tell her father that she needs 
entire change of air and scene. And O, 


62 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

Doctor, please be sure to say that she 
must have no excitement, but advise 
sending her to some quiet country place.” 

“I will do so. You have done well to 
explain all to me, and I will do what I can 
to help you carry out your wishes. How 
like her mother is the child. I can 
hardly realize that so many years have 
passed away since death took that proud 
and happy mother from her little one. I 
felt almost as if she lay before me — the 
very tones of her voice are the same.” 

“Yes, she is like her in face and form, 
but she has less of her mother’s spirit. She 
is more gentle and yielding, and far less 
joyous in her disposition. Still that may 
be due to the life she has lead,” said Lis- 
peth with a sigh. 

The Doctor left her saying, — “You 
know, my good woman, that if you are 
ever in need of a friend, you can call upon 
Dr. Brewster and he will gladly serve 
you.” 

The dinner hour passed without bring- 
ing the master of the house. The clock 
was striking ten when Lispeth heard his 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 63 

step in the hall. She hastened downstairs 
and knocked at the door of the room 
where her memorable conversation with 
her master had taken place six years be- 
fore. In response to the knock his voice 
bade her enter. Lispeth’s visit at that 
late hour surprised Mr. Arnstein. She 
never intruded upon his privacy. In 
fact, although the management of his 
house was in her charge, he saw her but 
seldom. Johanna, a young German girl 
employed as maid-of-all-work, was al- 
ways summoned when he required any- 
thing. Unless something important 
forced Lispeth into a conversation with 
her master she never crossed his path. It 
seemed as if one tried to avoid the other; 
yet each knew perfectly well that they 
were bound together by a common tie — 
and that tie was Leonora. 

Lispeth entered just far enough to 
close the door behind her and stood with 
her back against it. She told him of Le- 
onora’s illness. “And in your absence,” 
she continued, “I summoned the nearest 
physician. He will call again in the 


64 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

morning, and you can see him yourself.” 

“Why did you not send for Dr. Zacha- 
rias?” asked Mr. Arnstein. 

“He is too far away, and Leonora was 
very ill. If she requires further medical 
attendance he can be called. But it is 
not medicine she needs. It is rest — rest. 
She has been taxed beyond her strength, 
and has broken down under your stern 
discipline,” said Lispeth fearlessly. “If 
you wish her to die, continue the same 
treatment and she will soon be beyond 
all help.” 

Mr. Arnstein frowned darkly; but he 
said not a word in reply to all this. Lis- 
peth’s tones vibrated with suppressed 
anger; and her master did not like the ex- 
pression in her eye. He had encountered 
that same look once or twice in years 
gone by, and he knew that the wisest 
course to pursue with this strange 
woman was to smooth down her anger, 
and yield to her if that which roused her 
appertained to Leonora’s welfare. 

“I will see the child,” he said at last, 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA . 65 

and, taking up a candle, he proceeded up 
stairs followed by Lispeth. 

Leonora was sleeping. Mr. Arnstein 
raised the candle above his head and 
looked upon the young girl. One white 
hand lay upon the counterpane. The dark 
hair falling in waves upon her brow, and 
the long curling lashes resting upon her 
cheek, contrasted strongly with her pale 
face. He could not fail to see the truth 
of Lispeth’s words, although he made no 
comment as he turned away. On reach- 
ing the door, he paused to say: — 

“At what hour in the morning will the 
doctor call?” 

“At nine o’clock.” 

“I will see him.” 

Mr. Arnstein withdrew and Lispeth 
heard him descending the stairs. She 
knew he had returned to his room where 
he worked sometimes far into the night. 

The next morning Leonora expressed 
no desire to rise; and Lispeth was only 
too glad to have her remain in bed. The 
doctor came at the appointed time. 

“How do you find your patient this 


66 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

morning, Doctor?” said Mr. Arnstein, as 
he entered the room and stood at the foot 
of Leonora’s bed. 

“Just as I expected to find her — about 
the same. She requires neither medicine 
nor medical attendance, but perfect rest 
bodily and mentally. Her condition is 
such that she will regain her strength 
very slowly.” 

“Can nothing be done to build her up 
more quickly?” asked Mr. Arnstein. 

“In cases of this kind, where the ner- 
vous system also is much run down in 
consequence of too great strain, the re- 
turn to health and strength is very slow,” 
replied the doctor. “Complete change 
of air and scene, however, would do much 
for her; but she must have absolute quiet 
and be kept free from excitement.” 

There was silence for a few moments 
while the doctor wrote a prescription, 
which he handed to Lispeth, saying: — 

“You will find that an excellent tonic. 
Give it to her three times each day.” 
Then he arose to go. 

“Come this way, Doctor,” said Mr. 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 67 

Arnstein, opening the door into an ad- 
joining room. “I wish to speak with 
you alone.” Closing the door between 
them he said, — “Do you not think a sea 
voyage and some travel abroad would 
prove beneficial? I am going to Eng- 
land — thence to Germany. I intended 
to take my daughter with me.” 

“When do you sail?” 

“The twentieth of this month.” 

“I should not advise it,” said the doctor 
promptly. Your daughter could not 
stand the fatigue. Later in the summer, 
say in August, she may have regained her 
strength enough to travel. Quiet for a 
time, pure country air and out-door life 
only will restore her to health.” 

An expression of great dissatisfaction 
settled upon Mr. Arnstein’s face as he lis- 
tened. It was some time before he spoke. 
The doctor waited patiently for him to 
break the silence, feeling that he could 
say no more to gain for his young patient 
what she really needed, and prevent what 
Lispeth seemed to dread so much for her 
darling just now — a journey across the 


68 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

seas. Everything depended upon the de- 
cision of this man whose plans were all 
laid, and who saw the fulfillment of one of 
his cherished hopes delayed. Still Leo- 
nora’s health was a matter of importance 
to him. That must be perfectly restored 
at all costs. Finally he said: — 

“I do not know where to send her. I 
will never consent to her going to a sum- 
mer resort. If I could find board for her 
in some quiet country home, that might 
do; though I have so little time now to 
seek for a suitable place.” 

“Allow me to suggest a plan,” said the 
doctor. I know of a small furnished cot- 
tage in the country. It is for sale, but I 
think the owner would rent it for the 
summer.” 

“Where is it?” 

“On the Hudson. Up among the 
Highlands. A quiet spot, and very 
healthful.” 

“I will take the owner’s address, in case 
I should decide to act upon your advice. 
The place may suit me.” 

After the doctor had gone Mr. Arn- 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 69 

stein entered his private room, and, 
throwing himself into his favorite arm- 
chair, remained a long time buried in 
thought. Deep lines gathered upon his 
forehead and his face assumed an expres- 
sion anything but pleasant. Finally he 
arose, and, going to his desk he hastily 
wrote a few lines. Summoning Johanna 
he gave the note to her saying: — 

“I wish you to go to this address. You 
will have no difficulty in finding the place. 
Anyone will direct you. Ask for Dr. 
Zacharias, and, if you find him in, give 
him this note; if not you may leave it for 
him. Make all possible haste. I will 
await your return.” 

Johanna departed. Mr. Arnstein paced 
restlessly up and down during her ab- 
sence; finally she returned with the infor- 
mation that Dr. Zacharias would be una- 
ble to respond to his call, as he had met 
with an accident the night before, having 
been thrown from his carriage and seri- 
ously injured. 

Mr. Arnstein gave orders to have his 


70 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

lunch served at once. He ate it hastily 
and then left the house. 

Several days passed during which Lis- 
petli heard nothing of Mr. Arnstein's 
plans for the summer. She was anxiously 
awaiting his decision concerning Leo- 
nora. She had fully made up her mind 
that if her master should act contrary to 
Dr. Brewster’s advice, and carry out his 
plan of taking Leonora abroad with him, 
she must prevent it. She knew it lay in 
her power to do so ; but she desired if pos- 
sible not to use that power; and she hoped 
that Mr. Arnstein would see for himself 
the importance of Leonora’s restoration 
to health. Lispeth saw even less of her 
master during those days than usual. His 
time seemed to be entirely occupied, for, 
after leaving the house in the morning he 
seldom returned until late at night. 

Leonora remained about the same. 
She took but little interest in anything. 
Lispeth would draw her couch near the 
window each day, thinking she might en- 
joy looking out, but the young girl sim- 
ply reclined among the pillows with eyes 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 71 

closed most of the time. She did not even 
care to talk, so Lispeth would sit for 
hours by the other window, knitting — 
knitting, and seldom speaking. One 
evening just about dusk she heard her 
master’s step in the hall below. He en- 
tered his private room, and all was quiet 
for about two hours. Then Johanna 
came to Lispeth saying that her master 
wished to see her. She obeyed the sum- 
mons at once, telling Johanna to remain 
with her young mistress. 

Mr. Arnstein was sitting at a table 
strewn with papers. He pushed them 
aside when Lispeth entered, settled back 
in his arm-chair, and motioned Lispeth 
to be seated. She paid no heed to the 
motion, but remained standing just oppo- 
site him. 

“I wish to tell you, Lispeth, that it has 
been my intention to go abroad this sum- 
mer and take Leonora with me, but her 
illness has upset all my plans regarding 
her, and I shall be obliged to go alone. 

I expect to return in about four months. 
My nephew, Leon Arnstein, will accom- 


72 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

pany me. His education is finished and 
he is coming to America for the purpose 
of making it his home. He has known 
for years that a wife to share that home 
will be his also — a wife both accomplished 
and beautiful. It will not be long now 
ere Leonora will bear the name of Arn- 
stein legally. During the next four 
months I also intend to renew my search 
for the casket which contains her large 
inheritance. I shall use every means to 
find the mate to the silken mitt. Its 
owner has the casket in her possession or 
knows where it is hidden. I have learned 
the place where Marie Rabowski lived in 
England, and it is there I intend to go 
first, for I expect to obtain some clue to 
her whereabouts if she still lives; if not, 
I hope to learn some particulars of her 
life and where she died, which will serve 
my purpose. If the work which I have 
before me requires more than four 
months, I will return home and remain 
long enough to see the marriage, on 
which I have set my heart, consummated. 
It will take place shortly after my return, 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 73 

no doubt. Then I will arrange my af- 
fairs so that I can devote my whole time 
to the search for the casket.” 

Lispeth stood looking steadily at her 
master while he was speaking, and there 
was something in that look which made 
him feel uncomfortable. She took ad- 
vantage of a slight pause to say: — 

“And is the one most concerned in 
your plans not to be considered at all? 
Are you not going to consult Leonora’s 
happiness in this union? Would you 
marry her to a man whom she has never 
known ?” 

“Yes!” thundered Mr. Arnstein whose 
passion was aroused to white heat at the 
cool words and calm manner of the 
woman before him. “Who are you to 
pass judgment on my actions? I can 
turn you from my door if I choose, and I 
will do it if you ever dare to question my 
authority again!” 

The fierce gleam in this man’s eye and 
the intense passion in his words would 
have cowed almost anyone else, but it 
seemed not to affect Lispeth in the least. 


74 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

She advanced a few steps towards him, 
and with eyes looking fearlessly into his, 
said in low quick tones : — 

“You may threaten to separate me 
from her whom I have promised to guard 
and care for to my life’s end, but you will 
never carry out that threat. You tried 
it once and you will not dare to try it 
again!” She paused a moment facing her 
master, leaning with both hands on the 
table which separated them. “How- 
ever,” continued she, with a slight bend 
of her head and a trace of sarcasm in her 
tones, “I shall not question your author- 
ity again. If Leonora’s heart is in this 
marriage your plan will be carried out; 
if not, it is possible that she herself will 
be the one to question your authority.” 

Lispeth’s last words seemed to mollify 
her master somewhat. He became more 
composed and something like a smile 
overspread his features as he said: — 
“Ah! she cannot help but be proud of 
the love of a man like Leon Arnstein. He 
is rich — handsome — talented. She is 

young, and, unless very different from 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 75 

her sex in general, will be susceptible to 
the attentions of such a man. Besides, 
has not her training been such that she 
will yield more readily to my wishes ?” 

Lispeth made no reply to her master’s 
last words. 

The silence which followed lasted some 
time. Finally Mr. Arnstein spoke 
again : — 

“I wish you to be seated, Lispeth. I 
have some orders to give you before I 
leave and may as well do so now. It was 
not my intention to close the house dur- 
ing my absence ; but, in that respect also, 
I have been obliged to change my plan. 
I have rented a house in the country for 
the summer. It is furnished, but I wish 
you to go there to-morrow and see if any- 
thing more is needed for comfort. You 
can take the boat to Newberg. There 
you will find a stage which runs between 
Newberg and West Point, a distance of 
about eight miles. This place, which is 
called Mountain Villa, is about three 
miles north of West Point in the very 
heart of the Highlands. The driver will 


76 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

set you down at the gate. I have already 
taken one day to inspect the place and 
surroundings, as I wished to satisfy my- 
self that it was as Dr. Brewster described 
— healthful and secluded. It suited me 
in every respect. The nearest house 
towards Newberg is fully a mile away. 
It is a farm house occupied by a widow 
and her two sons. The youngest, a lad 
of sixteen, I have engaged for the sum- 
mer to help about the place. If Johanna 
will not go to the country you can find 
some young girl, who lives in Newberg 
or thereabouts, to serve you as maid-of- 
all-work. The house is a tiny affair, and 
the grounds though pretty are small. 
There is a large handsome house, whose 
extensive grounds join those of Moun- 
tain Villa, but which is unoccupied. I 
was told that it had been closed several 
years. The owner is in Europe and the 
place looks forlorn enough. So you see 
if quiet will restore Leonora’s health she 
will have it there.” 

While her master was speaking, Lis- 
peth’s anxiety was removed for the pres- 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 77 

ent concerning Leonora. It was with 
difficulty that she suppressed a sigh of re- 
lief as Mr. Arnstein handed her the key 
of the cottage, and gave her some final 
directions as to the time and manner of 
their departure from the city. Her heart 
was lighter than it had been for many 
days as she ascended the stairs to tell the 
good news to Leonora. 


78 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


VII. 

Among the picturesque Highlands 
which overlook the Hudson River there 
nestled a pretty gothic cottage, painted 
white with green blinds and small dia- 
mond-shaped window panes. Roses 
clambered in great profusion over the 
porch and in the gables of the roof. Sit- 
ting in a careless attitude on the highest 
step of the porch was Leonora, who un- 
consciously gave the finishing touch to 
this lovely study in pink and white and 
green. She wore a simple white dress 
relieved by a bouquet of pink roses at 
her belt. By her side was a large bowl 
which she had been filling with the beau- 
tiful flowers she loved. Her task com- 
pleted she leaned against the pillar be- 
hind her and sat looking dreamily about 
her. 

It was towards the close of a lovely 
day in early June — one of those perfect 
days in the “Month of Roses ” when the 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 79 

air is laden with their fragrance. The glad 
sunshine, the blue and cloudless sky, the 
gentle breeze which sways the foliage and 
plays with the daisies and buttercups 
nodding in the tall grass — all combine to 
make this the month of months to lovers 
of nature. 

Nearly three weeks have passed since 
Lispeth and her young charge left New 
York for this lovely nook in the High- 
lands. Leonora seemed to take a new 
interest in life from the hour that the pic- 
turesque and ever changing beauty of the 
Hudson began to unfold itself to her 
wondering eyes, as she reclined among 
the cushions arranged for her comfort on 
the deck of the steamer, which bore her 
from the hot dusty city. Everything was 
a revelation to her, and, although she was 
for many days too weak to do more than 
sit by the window or on the porch, when 
the weather permitted, she was content. 
Two days before she had strayed for the 
first time beyond the grounds of Moun- 
tain Villa into a bit of woodland near by, 
and seated herself in its cool shade by the 


80 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

side of a tiny brook which leaped along 
over a rocky bed. The songs of the birds, 
the rustle of the foliage, and the babbling 
of the brook, were music in her ears. 
On this day she had ventured in another 
direction — into the grounds of the ad- 
joining estate. Neglected and forlorn 
as it would appear to those who had seen 
it when the doors of the fine large man- 
sion had stood hospitably open, when the 
grounds were kept in order, when young 
figures might be seen flitting in and out, 
and the music of young voices was heard 
among the trees; yet even now it seemed 
to Leonora a perfect wilderness of beauty, 
the grand old trees, the grass grown paths, 
the pretty summer-house almost hidden 
by the roses which grew over it in wildest 
profusion. But perhaps what interested 
her most was the house itself. It stood 
facing the East on a slight eminence in 
the midst of terraced grounds. Six 
Doric columns adorned the front and 
supported the roof which projected over 
the porch. On the south side was a large 
bow window, whose low casements 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 81 

opened directly upon the terrace. On 
the north side, about twenty feet back 
from the front of the house, a wing pro- 
jected. A wide balcony enclosed by a 
handsome balustrade extended from the 
front porch back to this wing and across 
its front, terminating in a flight of steps 
which led to the carriage drive below. 
Leonora, who possessed an innate love of 
the beautiful both in Nature and Art, was 
enchanted with the beauty and symmetry 
of this deserted house. She lingered for 
some time, wandering hither and thither, 
pausing, now and then, on some slight 
eminence to gaze at the beautiful land- 
scape spread out before her. Finally she 
reluctantly turned her face homeward, 
laden with the roses she had gathered 
from the rich abundance about her. 

She was awaiting the arrival of the 
stage which was to bring Lispeth, who 
had gone to the city early that morning 
for the second time since they had left it. 
The sound of wheels reached her ear, and 
soon the rumbling old stage came in 
sight. She hurried down the narrow 


82 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

graveled walk to meet Lispeth as she 
alighted at the gate. Lovely indeed 
looked the young girl as she greeted the 
old woman with a glad smile. So also 
thought the gentleman who was now left 
the sole occupant of the stage. His trav- 
eling companion had interested him all 
along — this strange looking old woman 
who sat opposite him. Several parcels 
were in her lap and by her side was a 
covered basket, which she seemed to 
guard with special care. Leonora did 
not see the gentleman. In fact, he had 
leaned back out of sight, but where he 
could see her through the torn curtains 
of the old fashioned stage coach. She 
relieved Lispeth of her parcels ; but when 
Joe, the chore boy, who also appeared at 
the arrival of the stage, lifted the basket 
to carry to the house, the woman took it 
quickly from him and told him to take 
the parcels to Johanna. 

The stage passed on. Leonora pro- 
ceeded up the path ; but Lispeth stopped 
long enough to wrest from the gate-post 
a flimsy board sign, which read 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 83 

“For sale.” 

Then with a smile of satisfaction on 
the grim old face she made her way to 
the house, carrying the basket, which was 
so heavy that she was obliged to stop 
and rest several times. 

“Do come with me, Lispeth, into the 
grounds of the great house,” said Leon- 
ora the next day. “I want you to see 
what a beautiful place it is. So many 
lovely nooks, the dearest little summer- 
house, and such a fine view of the river!” 

“But, child,” replied Lispeth, “we will 
be trespassing.” 

“I know it; but surely we can do no 
harm. The house is closed. No one 
lives there. Let us go, Lispeth,” plead- 
ed the young girl. 

“I will go this time,” said Lispeth, who 
was glad to see the interest which Leon- 
ora seemed to take in her new surround- 
ings, and how the listless girl of a few 
weeks ago was improving each day by 
reason of this new life in the open air — 
free as a bird to roam about and enjoy 
the beauties of Nature, which revealed 


84 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

themselves to her on every side. “But,” 
continued she, “I do not think it best to 
go very often, especially alone, into those 
enchanted grounds, as they seem to you. 
There are the fields, the woods, and many 
delightful walks along the river, which 
we can take at will.” 

“I promise not to go again without 
you, Lispeth.” 

Leonora lead the way to a broken 
place in the fence through which she had 
found ingress to the adjoining grounds 
the day before. They were soon roam- 
ing about here, there, and everywhere. 
They remained standing on the front 
porch for some time, enjoying the beau- 
tiful landscape spread out before them — 
the river almost at their feet and the 
sweep of country beyond. Then they 
walked along the balcony, descended the 
steps to the drive, and wended their way 
along through various paths, till at last 
they seated themselves to rest on a rustic 
bench around which the grass grew tall 
and rank. 

“It is strange,” remarked Lispeth, 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 85 

“that all the blinds should be closed save 
those two. 

“Which two?” asked Leonora. “O, 
I see. Those blinds of the two upper 
windows in the wing. Why, I think they 
were all closed yesterday. I noticed that 
wing particularly on account of the win- 
dow in the gable end with the cunning 
little balcony around it. Still I am not 
quite certain.” 

Where they were sitting they had only 
a side view of the window in the gable 
end of the wing. They could not see that 
the casement was wide open and that a 
gentleman was sitting in an easy chair 
just inside, smoking leisurely. After a 
while he threw his cigar over the balcony 
rail, and, going to one of the front win- 
dows to which Lispeth referred, looked 
out. He gave a low whistle of astonish- 
ment as he beheld those two intruders, 
sitting comfortably on the bench under the 
shade of a large tree, evidently feeling 
quite at home; for Lispeth had produced 
the inevitable knitting, and Leonora was 
reading aloud from a small book. He 


86 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

wondered what it was, and wished himself 
nearer — at least within sound of her 
voice. He recognized in the old woman 
his traveling companion of the previous 
day, and the young girl as the one whom 
he had seen by the gate. Soon a change 
in the position of the old woman caused 
him to fear detection and he withdrew 
hastily. 

Another hour passed by. The length- 
ening shadows warned Lispeth that it 
was growing late. 

“Come, little one,” said she; “it is time 
to go home.” 

“I suppose it is; but, Lispeth, let us just 
walk around by the little summer-house 
I have told you about. You have not 
seen it yet, and I want a few more of those 
lovely roses.” 

The old woman consented, and Leon- 
ora lead the way through a narrow path, 
which wound in and out among the trees 
until they came to an open space in the 
centre of which stood the rose covered 
summer house. 

“O, is not this a charming spot?” cried 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 87 

Leonora, as she clapped her hands with 
delight and looked about her. “Just a 
few of the roses now, Lispeth, dear, and 
then we will go home.” 

The young girl picked a few within 
reach, but there were some higher up 
which she coveted. 

“O, I cannot reach them and they are 
the loveliest of all, Lispeth.” 

“Permit me to reach them for you,” 
said a manly voice ; and ere Leonora had 
time to recover from her surprise at the 
sudden appearance of the stranger, he had 
broken off several of the choicest roses 
and presented them to the blushing girl, 
saying in hearty tones, while a genial 
smile lighted up his handsome face, — 

“Pardon me if I startled you. I saw 
that you were longing for some of those 
roses, and I desired to gratify you.” 

Leonora shyly murmured her thanks 
as she took them. Lispeth, however, 
had taken in the situation more quickly. 
She thought of those open blinds, and it 
flashed upon her that this man was not a 


88 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

stranger in these grounds; she hastened 
to say, — 

“I beg you to excuse us if we are tres- 
passing. We believed the house to be 
unoccupied else we would not have ven- 
tured into the grounds. In fact, I have 
been informed that the owner is in 
Europe.” 

“Indeed,” replied the gentleman, “I 
thank you for your neighborly visit into 
these deserted grounds. The owner 
realizes that he has been in Europe too 
long — far too long, when he sees the 
desolation which surrounds his old 
home.” 

Then he lifted his hat, saying as he 
withdrew, — “I hope you will come very 
often. Truly you will be conferring a 
favor by so doing.” 

The gentleman disappeared behind 
some shubbery in the rear. Lispeth and 
Leonora made their way around the front 
of the house and were soon within the 
grounds of Mountain Villa. 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 


89 


VIII. 

Several days passed by, during which 
Leonora did not go near the neighboring 
estate, but confined her rovings to the 
daisy-studded fields and along the banks 
of the tiny stream which ran through the 
woods near by. Lispeth usually accom- 
panied her, for, although she had reached 
her seventy-fourth year, she was still vig- 
orous, and this kind of life suited her ex- 
actly. Once in passing the massive front 
gate, which barred the entrance to their 
neighbor’s grounds from the high-road, 
Leonora lingered long enough to look 
through the palings. A wide path led di- 
rectly to the house and she could see that 
it was just as she had found it on the day 
of her first visit — closed even to those two 
upper blinds of the north wing. She has- 
tened on, telling Lispeth that she believed 
its owner had again deserted it. What 
was her surprise one morning a few days 
later, to see smoke curling from one of 


90 THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 

the chimneys in the rear. The trees hid 
most of the house from view. Curiosity 
getting the better of her, she slipped out 
before breakfast, hastened to the front 
gate, and peeped in. She lingered but a 
moment, and returned speedily to burst 
in upon Lispeth with the news that the 
doors and windows of the great house 
were all open — “And,” continued she, 
“they seem to be cleaning and airing the 
carpets and furniture. There are men 
working everywhere in the grounds. I 
believe the owners have returned, Lis- 
peth. O, I wonder who they are.” 

Leonora paused to take breath and Lis- 
peth took the opportunity to say : — 

“I do not know, child. But come to 
your breakfast and leave the great house 
to take care of itself.” 

What she had seen gave Leonora much 
food for thought and speculation con- 
cerning her neighbors. It was not to be 
wondered at considering the life she had 
lived. She had plenty of time, and, al- 
though it did not hang heavy on her 
hands, she was young and ready for any- 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 91 

thing new. After supper she was sitting 
on the steps of the porch at Lispeth’s 
feet, enjoying the beauty of the summer 
evening. She was unusually quiet and 
thoughtful for a long time. Finally she 
said : — 

“O, Lispeth, it is so lovely !” 

“What is so lovely, child?” 

“Everything — this dear little cottage, 
the beautiful scenery all around us, and 
the freedom — O, the freedom, Lispeth. 
When I contrast it with the daily routine 
of my life for years, it makes me shudder 
to think of returning to it. Every day of 
that life filled up, and every hour of the 
day, year in and year out — practice, study, 
walk, read, — all in the same monotonous 
order. Instead of the soft turf beneath 
my feet — hard pavement; instead of these 
beautiful fields — long streets with rows of 
houses closely built. No wonder I loved 
St. John’s Park, for there only in all my 
life did I ever see anything green ; but it 
is nothing in comparison with my favor- 
ite haunt in those woods by the dear little 


92 TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

brook. I love it all and I have never 
been so happy in my life.” 

“I am glad you are happy, dearie. 
Your welfare is old Lispeth’s chief 
thought. You have naturally a happy 
disposition, that you inherited from your 
mother; but you have less of her spirit. 
In some respects you are like your 
father. He was gentle and peace-loving, 
fond of quiet and a deep lover of nature.” 

Leonora turned quickly and looked at 
Lispeth in surprise. Ere she could speak 
the old woman continued: — 

“I know what you would say, child — 
that it does not sound at all like the man 
whom you have been taught to call 
father.” 

“Whom I have been taught to call 
father? O, Lispeth, surely you cannot 
mean that — that” — 

“I mean that your own dear father died 
when you were two years old and that he 
whom you call father is in truth your 
grandfather.” 

Lispeth paused. The silence which 
followed remained unbroken. The old 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 93 

woman saw tears glistening in Leonora’s 
eyes as she sat looking steadily before 
her, and she realized more fully how 
keenly the young girl felt the loneliness 
of her life at times. Finally she said as 
she stroked the soft white hand resting on 
her knee : — 

“It is through no fault of mine that you 
have been thus deceived — brought up in 
ignorance of your true name. Had I not 
given my word to Mr. Arnstein that I 
would keep this long silence, you might 
have been taken from me, and I would 
have been unable to keep the most impor- 
tant part of my promise to your father on 
his death-bed — that was to watch over 
and care for you so long as I should live. 
When I gave that promise I believed that 
you would grow up under my protection, 
and that none of your own name would 
ever claim you. They never have; but 
your grandfather on your mother’s side 
sought for you, and, as your rightful 
guardian has thus far ordered your life. 
It has not been possible for me to keep 
the rest of my promise to your father — 


94 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

to teach you to love and honor the mem- 
ory of your parents, because I would have 
been obliged to reveal to you what I am 
doing now. Your father could not have 
foreseen the events which followed his 
death, and which changed the circum- 
stances of yOur life. When I found that 
it would not be possible for me to keep 
that part of my promise, and that I must, 
by my silence allow you to grow up be- 
lieving your real name to be Leonora 
Arnstein, I determined to make repara- 
tion for that injustice by telling you about 
your parents, when a fitting time should 
come, and when I could trust to your own 
discretion about making known to your 
grandfather your knowledge of his share 
in this deception. I hope you will for- 
give me, Leonora, if I have seemed to be 
a party in it. I am sure you will not 
blame me when you know all, and will see 
that I have acted for your good.” 

“I have nothing to forgive, Lispeth, 
You are my best and truest friend, I am 
sure,” said Leonora. “Dear, faithful 
soul,” she murmured, as she drew near 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 95 

the old woman. She let her head rest on 
Lispeth’s knee and said softly, — “Tell me 
now, Lispeth, about my parents.” 

“I will tell you the story of your moth- 
er’s life as she told it to me. I knew her 
only after her marriage. Her name was 
Judith Arnstein. She was born in Lon- 
don and lived there until she was in her 
sixteenth year. Her mother died when 
she was three years old, and, the follow- 
ing year her father went to live in Berlin, 
leaving her, his only child, to the care of 
his brother Reuben, a wealthy merchant, 
who lived in a populous part of London. 
He was childless, and his wife took the 
motherless little girl into her heart and 
home. She was the light of her life, so 
long as the good woman lived. She 
died when Judith was about fifteen. 
It was then that her father claimed 
her and took her away to live with 
him in Germany. He had not mar- 
ried again, but had devoted his whole life 
to the accumulation of wealth. A few 
years after Judith left her uncle Reuben’s 
home, he married a second time; and by 


96 THE JEWESS , LEOHORA. 

that wife he had one child, a son, who 
has now grown to manhood. His name 
is Leon Arnstein, and he is your father’s 
only living relative. 

“Your mother was beautiful. She 
was good too, and, although somewhat 
high spirited, she was very affectionate 
and generous hearted. Her childhood 
had been a most happy one, passed with 
an uncle and aunt who were very kind to 
her, and to whom she was devotedly at- 
tached. She was suddenly transported 
to a home among strangers, having for 
her daily companion a sour-tempered old 
woman, her father’s housekeeper. She 
lived in constant fear of offending a 
stern parent, whose anger at a task 
not done to suit him found vent 
in harsh invectives, and often re- 
sulted in severe punishment. What 
wonder that the joyousness of her na- 
ture became subdued; her voice, which 
had filled her uncle Reuben’s home with 
melody in days gone by, when she would 
go about singing for very gladness of 
heart, was seldom heard; and her dispo- 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 


9 ? 


sition, docile enough under kind treat- 
ment, changed into something like rebel- 
liousness by the constant restraint under 
which she lived. Two years of such a 
life made the step she took pardonable. 
Love was as essential to that young crea- 
ture as sunshine is to flowers. She hun- 
gered for it, and, when it came to her with 
its softening influence, she was secretly 
very happy once again, yet fearful lest 
her new found happiness should be dis- 
covered.” 

“Your father was Karl Sturmer , a young 
student at the University of Berlin. How 
he met and wooed the young Jewish 
maiden I do not know. I only know that 
she loved the gentle, fair-haired youth. 
Their sudden marriage, however, was 
brought about by an act on the part of 
Mr. Arnstein. It made them both realize 
the strength of their love for one another. 
Your mother was sitting at her embroi- 
dery one morning when her father en- 
tered and informed her she must make 
preparations for her marriage with a man 
whom he had chosen to be her husband. 


98 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

He told her the betrothal would be cele- 
brated in true Jewish fashion one week 
from that evening, and her marriage 
would take place the following Sabbath. 
Her heart was filled with dismay at this 
news; but it gave place to horror when 
she learned the name of her future hus- 
band — a man old enough to be her father 
and whom she secretly disliked, although 
he stood high in the estimation of her 
father and his friends. He was very rich 
and she knew that was enough to satisfy 
her father. She listened to all he had to 
say and answered not a word, for she felt 
that reason and justice would be sacri- 
ficed to a love of riches. The days 
slipped quickly by. Your mother partic- 
ipated in the celebration of her betrothal 
in obedience to her father’s commands; 
for previous experience had taught her 
that to oppose his wishes meant close 
confinement until she should yield. She 
did not speak of her love for your father; 
nor ask his consent to her marriage; for 
she knew it would not be granted and she 
feared to arouse his wrath. So on the 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 99 

eve of her marriage she simply slipped 
away, and before her father learned of 
her departure she had already become the 
wife of the man she loved, and was on her 
way to a home in this country.” 

“Your father had always been treated 
with cool indifference by his step-broth- 
ers and sisters. His home was not a con- 
genial one; but he loved his father, who, 
notwithstanding his eccentricities, was 
just and kind at heart. Felix Sturmer, 
however, had that pride of race which 
had ever been the chief characteristic of 
his family. When he received a letter 
from his son, asking his consent to his 
marriage with Judith Arnstein, telling of 
his love for the young Jewess, that proud 
man’s anger knew no bounds, as his re- 
ply to that letter showed. He threatened 
to disown a son who would dare to marry 
a daughter of a race he so despised. But 
your father believed that in time he would 
be forgiven; and, when he learned of the 
marriage which Mr. Arnstein had ar- 
ranged for his daughter, he determined 
to save her from such a fate. His love 


100 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

for your mother was true. He believed 
true love to be a gift from God; and to 
enter into a loveless marriage was a sin 
against God.” 




THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


101 


IX. 

“So they were married. I do not think 
in your parent’s case that love triumphed 
over creed; for the difference in their re- 
ligion was something which did not enter 
their minds. Even in after years that 
question never came up to mar their 
happiness. Only once in the six years 
that they lived together did I ever hear 
your mother speak at any great length 
of the faith in which she had been reared, 
and which she really never gave up. It 
was not required of her. She was 
truly religious and lived and died 
in the Jewish faith, although she 
knew herself to be an outcast from 
her kind. The time to which I 
refer was about three months after you 
came to gladden the hearts of that loving 
pair. They had been married something 
over five years, and it seemed as if their 
happiness was then complete. A prouder 
young mother never lived, as she sat in a 


102 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

low chair with her baby on her lap. I 
can see her now so plainly. She was 
more beautiful than ever, and she had 
that sweet charm about her which ma- 
ternity always brings.” 

“Lispeth,” she said, “surely it is not 
possible that I love my God the less be- 
cause I love my Christian husband and 
my child so much. If one of my own 
faith should come to me and say that in 
marrying thus I have committed a sin, 
and in order to save my soul I must give 
up these dear ones, I would trust that 
soul to Him who created love. Do we 
not pray to the same God? And would 
He, who is all wise, have put this great 
love into my heart, if it had not been right 
for me to accept so precious a gift? 
Still I would like my little one to be 
brought up in the faith of the Jewish peo- 
ple. I shall teach her all that is best in 
it; for is it not the foundation of the Chris- 
tian religion, to which my husband so 
closely adheres? Then, when she is old 
enough I wish her to read, study, and 
judge for herself.” 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 103 

“Your mother did not know that her 
husband had been sitting all the time 
where he could hear what she was saying. 
He came from an adjoining room with 
the book he had been reading in his hand 
and said gently; — 

“It shall be as you desire, Judith. If 
our little one grows up to be one half as 
good a woman, and as lovely in her home 
as her mother, I will chance her happi- 
ness in the world to come.” 

“With that he stooped and kissed her. 
That was all that ever passed between 
them on the subject of their different 
faiths. They were very happy in their 
own way; and in few homes could there 
be found such love and harmony. It was 
a modest little home, but they enjoyed 
every comfort. Your father gave cer- 
tain hours each day in schools, teaching 
his own language. He also had as many 
pupils on the violin as he could attend to. 
Alas! Their happiness was short-lived. 
You were only one year old when your 
mother was taken suddenly ill and died 
before we realized her danger. She had 


104 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

inflammation of the lungs. The shock 
to your father was so great that he never 
recovered. He failed visibly, and ere 
the year rolled away he had followed his 
beloved wife. Now you have the story 
that I promised to tell you. This is the 
eve of your eighteenth birthday; for to- 
morrow will be the fifteenth of June.” 

Lispeth paused, and the silence which 
followed was broken only by the sound 
of Leonora gently weeping at the story 
of her parents’ lives and their early death. 

“I am glad to know that my mother’s 
childhood was a happy one and that she 
had only two years of a life like mine.” 

“Yes, and it was because of her happy 
childhood that she chafed under the re- 
straint of those two years. She had no 
affection for her father notwithstanding 
the tie of blood. Although your grand- 
father has always been very stern and ex- 
acting with you, he has never given vent 
to those bursts of passion of his younger 
days, which used to terrify your mother. 
He has never inflicted upon you the se- 
vere punishments, which she was forced 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 105 

to endure for some trivial misdemeanor. 
Perhaps it is because some one has stood 
between you and him, whose anger he 
has feared to rouse. I do not wish to de- 
stroy what affection you may have for 
your grandfather, for, in a certain sense, 
he has done his duty by you and deserves 
your gratitude at least. You have re- 
ceived an excellent education, and a 
training which has fitted you to occupy 
any social position in the world. Give 
to him as much love as you can, and ex- 
cuse the mistakes of his earlier years. I 
have told you these details of your moth- 
er’s life to show you why she married as 
she did. Should your grandfather ever 
command you to do anything against 
which your heart and reason rebels, you 
need not flee, as she did in her helpless- 
ness, but know that so long as old Lis- 
peth lives you have a stanch friend, and 
one who can give you a home also, if ne- 
cessary. Be prompted by the dictates 
of your own conscience, and if you need 
advice come to me.” 

“I promise, Lispeth. But you have 


106 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

told me very little concerning my fath- 
er’s people. I only know that my name 
is Leonora Sturmer.” 

“It is growing late, dear. No more to- 
night. You shall know everything 
some day. Your dear father left a letter 
in my charge with the injunction to give 
it to you when the right time should 
come, according to my judgment. I am 
not ready yet. Trust me yet a little longer. 
However, there is one thing I wish to 
give you now. It is this small parcel. 
It contains a key and written directions 
where to find that letter. I do this in case 
anything should happen to me. Guard 
the parcel carefully; and by no means 
open it. I know that I can trust you.” 

“You can trust me, Lispeth,” said the 
young girl as she received the parcel. 
“There is one question which I wish you 
would answer now. You have said that 
my father always believed that he would 
be forgiven. Is it possible that he re- 
mained disowned — that his father, who 
was just and kind at heart, as you say, 
never relented towards a son whose only 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 107 

fault was that he loved and married a 
Jewess?” 

“Your grandfather softened towards 
his son and so far relented as to write to 
him, but he would never have acknowl- 
edged his Jewish wife, nor any children 
by that marriage. You are as much 
cast off by that proud family as if you 
were nothing to them. In fact, I think 
they do not even know that there is such 
a child, for the letter came too late. It 
reached here a few days after your fath- 
er’s death. But he never gave up hope 
that he might some day hear from the 
father who had cast him off. When he 
gave you into my charge, he gave me 
also the privilege of opening any letters 
which might come for him. He trusted 
me to act according to my own judgment 
should anything come up which affected 
your welfare. And I trust I have acted 
for the best in all things. The letter of 
Felix Sturmer to his son I have preserved 
with the one from your father to you.” 

“Then my mother’s father really was 
more kind — more forgiving in the end; 


108 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

for did he not seek me out and claim me 
as his own?” 

“He sought you out, to be sure ; but he 
was not actuated by love or forgiveness 
towards the child who had committed, in 
his eyes, an unpardonable wrong. There 
are other motives underlying all his 
actions — but enough of this; be happy, 
little one, and enjoy your daily blessings, 
for they are many, notwithstanding the 
loneliness you may sometimes feel. Now 
good-night, my child. It is time to go 
to rest.” 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


109 


X. 

The next morning Leonora was stand- 
ing at her bed-room window looking out 
upon the freshness of the morning. This 
window commanded a view of part of the 
carriage drive and one of the narrow, 
freshly graveled paths running parallel 
to the hedge which separated the grounds 
of Mountain Villa from those of “Leigh- 
ton Manor,” as the neighboring estate 
was called. Men were still at work there, 
and it seemed to Leonora as though the 
grounds were becoming more beautiful 
each day under the skilled handiwork of 
the gardener in charge and his men. She 
could see the rustic seats and urns of 
flowers here and there. The fountain so 
long silent was playing and sparkling in 
the sunshine. She had stood there but a 
short time when she saw a gray-haired 
lady walking slowly along the drive, 
leaning on the arm of a gentleman. Le- 
onora recognized him at once as the one 


110 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

who had gathered the roses for her on 
the day of her visit to the summer-house. 
They paused a few minutes while the gen- 
tleman gave some directions to one of the 
men, who was occupied in clipping the 
hedge. The lady stood looking at the 
pretty gothic cottage while the gentle- 
man was thus engaged. When he had 
finished she seemed to ask him some 
question about it, for he looked that way 
and said something in reply. Then they 
passed on and were soon lost to sight 
among the trees. 

The day wore away and evening came 
again. Leonora was sitting in a low 
chair on the porch, while Lispeth sat just 
inside their tiny parlor by the window. 

“O, Lispeth, two gentlemen are coming 
through the gate!” said Leonora in low 
hurried tones. “Why! It is Dr. Brews- 
ter and the gentleman who lives in the 
great house.” She had no time to say 
more, but arose to receive them. Dr. 
Brewster’s voice greeted her ere he had 
reached the porch. 

“Well, how does my patient find her- 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. Ill 

self? I presume she is not expecting a 
visit from her doctor here. But it is the 
unexpected that always happens you 
know. This is my friend, Dr. Leighton 
— Miss Sturmer. It seems a needless 
form to introduce you ; for you are neigh- 
bors and have met before, I believe. I 
want to make my friends — friends to 
each other.” 

Leonora gave her hand to the gentle- 
man who was looking at her with eyes 
that smiled, as she thought, at this refer- 
ence of Dr. Brewster’s to the little episode 
of the roses and the summer-house. She 
blushed prettily as she said : — 

“It gives me pleasure to meet you 
again, and this time on my own side of the 
line. We have not trespassed since; but 
I cannot say how long it would be before 
I, at least, must yield to the temptation 
of a stroll in those grounds. They pos- 
sess great attractions for me; and es- 
pecially now since Art combined with 
Nature has made them still more beauti- 
ful.” 

“I am sorry,” said Dr. Leighton, “that 


112 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

you have felt any hesitancy in accepting 
my invitation to rove about there as much 
as you choose. You know I said you 
would be conferring a favor by so do- 
ing.” 

Lispeth brought some chairs for the 
gentlemen. Dr. Brewster seated himself 
in one nearest the window and began 
talking to Lispeth, who had resumed her 
seat just inside. Leonora heard her say 
something about having given up the 
tonic several days ago, but still insisting 
upon two hours rest in the middle of the 
day. She knew they were discussing her 
health and paid no further attention to 
what they were saying. In fact, she was 
already at her ease with her new acquaint- 
ance, and they were soon conversing like 
old friends. 

There was something about Richard 
Leighton which readily won him friends 
among the opposite sex. It was not per- 
sonal beauty, for, although Nature had 
bestowed upon him a fair share of what 
constitutes good looks, one might see 
handsomer men every day. One would 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 113 

be impressed at first by his distin- 
guished bearing — later with a sense of his 
thorough manliness and strength of 
character. The intelligence expressed in 
his face, and the large, clear, steady gray 
eyes, so full of strength and sympathy, 
would cause the observer to forget the 
absence of mere regularity of features. 
He had passed so many years in caring 
for his invalid mother, and his constant 
solicitude for her well being, rendered 
him unusually sympathetic in his manner 
towards all womankind. Leonora felt 
something of this and that was the cause, 
no doubt, of his success in drawing her 
out; for she was usually very shy and re- 
served. Her life had much to do with 
that sensitiveness which caused her to 
shrink from meeting strangers. Before 
she was aware of it she was giving Rich- 
ard Leighton an insight into her charac- 
ter, and creating in his mind an interest 
which was destined to become deeper 
and more absorbing as their friendship 
ripened. He was a thorough man of the 
world, and had had more time than most 


114 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

men to study human nature. The past 
six years had been spent abroad, first in 
one place, then in another, as it seemed 
best for his mother’s health. He had 
seen many phases of life and many differ- 
ent types of womanhood. Yet here was a 
young girl unlike any he had ever met. 
He found her thoughtful and intelligent 
beyond her years, still in many respects 
a veritable child. She seemed entirely 
free from the many feminine affectations 
to which he had become more or less ac- 
customed in his association with women. 
Her childishness showed itself as she de- 
scribed the every day enjoyment of the 
simple life she was leading in the heart of 
nature. Her intelligence manifested it- 
self as their conversation progressed. She 
could converse in the language of her 
father’s native land, and was well versed 
in some of its best literature ; yet her man- 
ner was entirely unlike the women of that 
country, and she seemed to have nothing 
in common with them. 

They talked on unconscious of the pas- 
sage of time. The sun had set. The 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 115 

moon had risen and shone full upon Leo- 
nora. Richard Leighton thought he had 
never seen so lovely a picture as the 
young girl, sitting there in her white dress 
with a shawl of soft white material 
wrapped about her. Dr. Brewster had 
gone inside some time before, and had 
been engaged in earnest conversation 
with Lispeth. The murmur of their 
voices only reached the two outside. The 
elder man arose to go, but stood for a few 
moments in the door-way as if loth to in- 
terrupt the conversation which both 
seemed to be enjoying so much. Dr. 
Leighton was saying: — 

“I hope you will come and see my 
mother soon; being quite an invalid she 
seldom goes out, and she is sometimes 
very lonely. I fear she will not be able 
to come here just yet, for she is not so 
well lately. Do not wait for her. She 
is at her best in the morning.” 

“Well, my young friend,” said Dr. 
Brewster, “we must be going. We have 
made a long call for the first one — quite 
a neighborly visit.” 


116 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

“It has seemed short to me,” said Leo- 
nora artlessly. “How long do you re- 
main in the country, Doctor? If I do not 
need you professionally, I like to see you 
very often.” 

“O, I return in the morning. There 
are those in the city who need me, and I 
must not tarry here. When I heard of 
the return of my old friends after six 
years’ absence, I could not resist coming 
up to see them. Then, too, I wanted to 
see how my prescription was working 
with you. I find it has done wonders al- 
ready. Good-night and good-bye too.” 

A few moments more and they were 
gone. Leonora stood leaning against a 
pillar of the porch for sorr\e time. Fi- 
nally she turned and looked towards the 
great house. A portion of it was visible 
through the trees, and she saw a tall fig- 
ure walking back and forth on the broad 
piazza in the moon-light. She lingered 
yet a moment, then entered the house, 
and went straight to her own room. 

Dr. Brewster joined his young friend 
after a while, saying the night was too 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 117 

lovely to be spent in bed. Richard pro- 
duced some fine cigars, and the two men 
seated themselves for a chat and a smoke. 

“That is a strange looking old woman 
at the cottage. What is her name, and 
what relation does she bear towards the 
young girl?” asked the younger man. 

“Her name is Elizabeth Harned. No 
relation so far as I know. But she seems 
to be everything to her young charge — 
nurse, when she was a child — compan- 
ion now, and housekeeper for Mr. Arn- 
stein, Leonora’s grandfather. She is 
well educated, yet she seems used to ser- 
vice. I have known her many years, 
and, although I enjoy her confidence in 
part, she is still an enigma to me. A 
mother could not be more devoted to her 
child than is that old woman to Leonora. 
Her fear lest some misfortune shall hap- 
pen to her darling amounts almost to a 
passion with her. I remember once years 
ago, Mr. Arnstein tried to separate her 
from the child. What turned him from 
his purpose I never knew. In fact, I 
have not been their attending physician 


318 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

since Mr. Arnstein took charge of his 
grandchild. Lispeth summoned me when 
she was in a dilemma just before Mr. Arn- 
stein sailed for Europe. Faithful and 
true is that strange woman ; and I would 
trust her with anything I hold dear, if 
once she gave her promise to guard it.” 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 


119 


XI. 

“Miss Sturmer is of German descent, is 
she not?” asked Richard. 

“Her father was German on the pater- 
nal side only. Karl Stunner’s mother 
was an English woman. The Sturmer 
family prided themselves on their long 
lineage and large wealth. I learned 
much of the history of that family from 
Leonora’s father himself. They were a 
proud race — very narrow and sel- 
fish. Leonora’s mother, however, was a 
daughter of that time honored people, 
which looks back — back through ages 
to the very fountain head of their nation 
in old Abraham.” 

“Ah, she is a Jewess! That accounts 
for much that has puzzled me,” said Rich- 
ard. 

“Yes, Leonora is Jewish on her moth- 
er’s side,” returned Dr. Brewster. “I 
knew her well. She was lovely in char- 
acter, as well as a most beautiful woman. 


120 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

Her love for her husband was of that 
kind which is most unselfish — which 
grows with years. She was entirely free 
from vanity. I remember once while 
spending an evening with them Karl 
Sturmer requested his wife to sing. She 
complied, and I think I never heard a 
richer voice — a voice more full of prom- 
ise than hers. I could not refrain from 
suggesting, as I took into consideration 
her marvelous beauty also, that she 
should cultivate her voice and train for the 
applause, which she would surely receive 
from the public. I told her she might 
have the whole world at her feet. “My 
husband needs me more than the world,” 
she replied simply. 

“I have had the pleasure of being 
thrown with many cultured and talented 
people among the Jews during the past 
six years,” said Richard. “I have studied 
into their wondrous history and I am con- 
vinced that there must be a purpose in 
the preservation of this much persecuted, 
and long suffering people through all 
these centuries. It is nearly four thous- 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 121 

and years since God made His covenant 
with Abram and blessed him. Other 
nations in the world’s history have sprung 
into existence, multiplied and grown 
powerful. They have passed away and 
nothing remains save a few crumbling 
stones, mute witnesses of bygone glories. 
Some writer has aptly likened the Hebrew 
race to the Gulf Stream as flowing on 
through the Ocean of Time — never les- 
sening — never increasing — never chang- 
ing. It is said that they number the same 
to-day as when Moses led them out of the 
land of the Pharoahs’; and, too, they have 
ever preserved their identity. Go where 
you will in any part of the civilized world, 
you find the Hebrew, mingling with all 
nationalties, mixing with none, playing 
his part in the theatre of life, showing 
himself a credit wherever he enjoys rights 
in common with other men. Charita- 
ble, temperate, industrious, and exem- 
plary in family life — thus do I find the 
Jew.” 

Richard paused a moment and Dr. 
Brewster said in softened tones, — 


122 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

“It seems as if one could see the hand 
of God in this strange preservation of the 
Israelites as a distinct people throughout 
the changes of the world’s nations in past 
ages. I believe that after their wander- 
ings are over they will be led by the gui- 
dance of that Divine hand to believe in 
Him, who is really the glory and light of 
their own race. This is beyond human 
power, but the God of both Jew and 
Christian, whose religion the Jew de- 
fended and preserved to the world, can, 
and I believe will, in His own good time, 
bring the children of Abraham to accept 
Jesus of Nazereth as the true Son of the 
Father — as the Messiah, for whose com- 
ing they are still watching and waiting.” 

There was silence for a few minutes, 
then Dr. Brewster resumed the conver- 
sation by saying, — 

“I have often wondered as to what na- 
tionality old Lispeth belongs. She is not 
English, I am sure. I do not think she 
is German either. It seems to me that I 
have heard something which has led me 
to think that she, too, is of Jewish par- 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 123 

entage, but I am not certain.” 

“She looks to me like a Russian,” said 
Richard. Perhaps she is a Polish woman. 
Many Poles made their way to England 
after the last relic of Polish independ- 
ence was destroyed in 1785.” 

“All the more reason then that 
she should flee from that country 
after it came under the sway of 
Russia, if she is a Jewess,” said 
Dr. Brewster. “The Jews have been 
cruelly treated in Russia. Their lands 
taken from them, excluded from all 
trades and not even allowed the rights 
of citizenship. Is it to be wondered at 
that they resorted to usury to support 
life?” 

“The same is true of other lands, my 
dear sir,” said the younger man. “For 
centuries there seemed to be no abiding 
place for the Hebrew people. Even old 
England has cause to blush at the atroci- 
ties committed upon its subjects of that 
faith in the massacre of York. It was 
thought no wrong during the Crusades, 
when the Jews refused to give up their 


124 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

gold to carry on the costly enterprise, to 
extort it from them by acts of barbar- 
ous cruelty.” 

“I know, my boy,” replied Dr. Brews- 
ter, “but since Western Europe has been 
lifted to a higher plane of civilization by 
the light of knowledge, since bigotry and 
f intolerance have fallen back among the 
shadows of the past — these people have 
emerged in an incredibly short time 
from obscurity where prejudice and 
hatred have pushed them, and have shown 
that they can do something more than 
make money. I never listen to the en- 
chanting music of Mendelssohn’s “Mid- 
summer Night’s Dream,” or the soul- 
stirring strains of his “Elijah;” I never 
read Heine’s beautiful poems and lyrics 
without feeling the depth of melody and 
poetry in the outcast people.” 

“Yes, the musical genius of the Jew is 
indeed great,” said Richard. “Meyer- 
beer and Rossinni, too, were Jews. 
Eduard Bendemann with his brush has 
made for himself a name in the world of 
Art. His perfect symmetry in drawing 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 125 

and composition, his tender, harmonious, 
yet always true coloring have excited 
universal admiration. It seems to me 
that whatever they undertake they do 
thoroughly and well. Consider how they 
have been gaining ground as lawyers in 
England since their admission to the bar. 
The time is not far distant, I believe, 
when some of its most shining lights will 
be Jews. I shall be glad to hear of their 
admission to parliament.” 

“Yes,” assented Dr. Brewster, “that 
day is coming too, for they are good pa- 
triots. It has been said that they drive a 
hard bargain. In that they do not stand 
alone, for is there not a class of people in 
our own country, who have inherited 
from their forefathers but a few genera- 
tions back as a result of their narrow, 
struggling lives, that cunning and close- 
ness in a deal to whom the expression 
“Jew him down” applies as well, but for 
which the people of to-day are not to 
blame? So why use that phrase to ex- 
press everything small and mean in a 
bargain. It was only by compulsion 


126 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

that the Jews became traders and usurers. 
In their early history we find them fol- 
lowing divers pursuits, as fishermen, 
shepherds, tillers of the soil ; we find them 
plying various trades, as carpenters and 
the like; in truth, to amass riches was not 
originally a trait of the Jewish character.” 

“By no means,” said Richard. “It is a 
question in my mind whether love of gain 
and closeness in a deal are traits which 
stand out more prominently with the 
Jews than with other people. If they do, 
in consequence of centuries instead of a 
few generations of constant struggle 
merely to live, why, give the Jews time 
and those traits will be pushed into the 
back-ground — overshadowed by the 
many talents — the many virtues, which 
each succeeding generation brings to 
light. They will be liberal with their 
wealth in living and letting those around 
them live. They will use their gold for 
the good of their fellow men.” 

“Indeed, the life of Sir Moses Monte- 
fiore is a noble example of charity and 
deeds of kindness. He has not only used 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 127 

every means to better the condition of 
the poor and oppressed of his own race, 
but he has been known to subscribe for 
various charitable objects without regard 
to faith.” 

There was silence for some time — each 
man busy with his own thoughts. Rich- 
ard seemed to see again the lovely face 
of the young Jewess. The sweet tones 
of her voice lingered in his memory, and 
he was picturing to himself the pleasure 
it would be to throw some happiness into 
that young life when he was brought to 
himself by Dr. Brewster saying, — 

“It is past midnight, my boy; and if 
we leave by the early boat we must snatch 
a few hours’ sleep.” 

In a few moments perfect stillness 
reigned around the great house, which 
gleamed white in the moonlight, and 
stood out in bold relief against the dark 
background of trees. 


128 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


XII. 

When Leonora came down to breakfast 
the next morning she found a basket of 
roses on the table, freshly cut and still 
wet with the morning dew. A note writ- 
ten in a delicate, feminine hand was fas- 
tened to the handle. It read thus: — 

“Mrs. Leighton sends these roses with her 
greeting to her young neighbor, and begs that 
she will come and spend the morning with her ” 

“Will not that be delightful, Lisped!?’' 

“Yes, child, I am sure you will enjoy 
it.” 

After breakfast Leonora arranged her 
roses in vases and then went to prepare 
for her morning visit. She came down 
looking as sweet and fresh as the morn- 
ing itself. She fastened some roses in 
her belt, tied on a broad brimmed hat, 
and, taking up the empty basket, started 
down the path. She had gone but a few 
steps when she returned and said to Lis- 
peth, who was standing on the porch: — 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 129 

“Did you observe, Lispeth, that Dr. 
Brewster introduced me as Miss Sturmer, 
and Mrs. Leighton addressed her note in 
the same way?” 

“Yes, for Dr. Brewster remembers 
your father and mother. He knows you 
only by that name.” 

“It is just as well. I shall always be 
called Leonora Sturmer now. Goodbye 
till noon, Lispeth.” 

Mrs. Leighton was sitting in a large 
easy chair, which had been wheeled out 
upon the porch in order that she might 
enjoy the fresh morning air. She saw 
Leonora coming up the broad avenue 
leading to the house, and thought how 
lovely she looked with the pink roses at 
her belt and the same faint color tinting 
her cheeks. The young girl felt shy at 
first; but the cordial greeting of the gen- 
tle sweet-faced lady, her kind and almost 
tender manner, soon drove away all shy- 
ness. 

“It is very kind of you to come, dear. 
My morning would be very lonely. My 
son has gone to the city with Dr. Brews- 


130 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

ter and will not return until to-morrow 
evening/’ 

“I know what it is to feel lonely, for 
I am often so,” said Leonora. 

“Ah, I was never lonely at your age 
when I was young and strong. I had so 
much to fill my life; but all is changed 
now,” said Mrs. Leighton with a sigh. 
“I have only my son who has already 
given six years out of his young life in 
trying to make me feel my loneliness less. 
He is only thirty now, although he looks 
somewhat older, I think.” 

“You have been in Europe some years, 
I believe,” said Leonora. 

“Yes, and we remained longer than we 
intended, going about from one climate 
to another, according to the season, in 
search of the health which I fear never 
will be mine. Finally we turned our 
faces towards our native land, and are so 
happy to be once more in our old home. 
The first few days were very sad ones 
for me as every nook and corner are asso- 
ciated with the dear ones I have lost — 
my husband and my daughter.” 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 131 

Leonora saw that Mrs. Leighton liked 
to talk of those other days — of the hus- 
band who had idolized her, and the 
daughter who had been the very light of 
her life. She encouraged her to go on 
with gentle words of sympathy. 

“When I saw you coming up the path,” 
continued Mrs. Leighton, “a vision of 
Laura came before my eyes. She was 
about your age, I should judge. Her 
height and figure, too, were much like 
yours, but there the resemblance ceases 
and the vision was quickly dispelled. She 
was fair — very fair. Her hair was golden 
and her eyes were blue.” 

The morning hours slipped quickly by 
and before Leonora arose to take leave of 
her hostess, there had been laid the foun- 
dation of a friendship between them 
which was to prove life long. It was 
much to this young girl, who counted no 
woman friend save her faithful Lispeth, 
and whose heart craved the tender sym- 
pathy of true friendship. 

On the afternoon of the same day the 
sky became suddenly overcast. There 


132 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

were flashes of lightning, followed by ter- 
rific claps of thunder, and before long the 
rain came down in torrents. Although 
the fury of the storm abated somewhat, it 
continued showery until night closed in, 
and Mrs. Leighton saw no more of her 
young neighbor that day. After tea the 
following evening, she was reclining on 
a low couch in the room on the first floor 
of the north wing. The casements were 
wide open, and her couch had been 
drawn near the window. It was too cool 
after the rain for her to sit outside. Le- 
onora saw her as she was coming along 
the carriage drive, having entered the 
grounds in the same way as on the first 
day of her visit to the deserted house — 
through a broken place in the fence at 
the extreme end of the small garden be- 
longing to Mountain Villa. The young 
girl ascended the steps, passed lightly 
along the piazza, and peeped in, saying : — 
“May I come in, please? The day has 
seemed very long, and I have wanted to 
come over so much that I could wait no 
longer.” 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 133 

“Certainly, my dear. I have been hop- 
ing you would come. My son has not re- 
turned, and I am so disappointed. I 
presume something has happened to de- 
tain him.” 

“Perhaps the boat is late to-night,” 
suggested Leonora. 

“I think not. The stage has just 
passed. I must accustom myself to do- 
ing without my son more now, as he is 
preparing to enter upon the duties of his 
profession in the autumn. He believes 
that a physician is called to his work just 
as much as a clergyman, and feels that 
he must do something for the good of his 
fellow men. Richard is of too active a 
temperament, and has too high a sense of 
man’s duty towards man to be content 
with a life of ease, when there are so many 
whose sufferings he may be able to allevi- 
ate, if not heal. We will keep our home 
here always and occupy it through the 
summer. My son will spend as much of 
his time at “The Manor” in the years to 
come as he can spare; but he wishes to 
make a home for himself in the city also. 


134 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

He is more fortunate than most young 
men in his profession in having means 
ample enough to permit him to work 
among God’s poor in a city of many na- 
tionalities and creeds. From the rich and 
those in comfortable circumstances he 
will take pay; but from the poor — noth- 
ing.” 

“That will be an ideal life,” said Leo- 
nora whose sympathy had ever gone out 
towards the poor. 

“Dr. Brewster has asked my son to be- 
come his partner, as he is much over- 
worked and no longer young. Richard 
told him he would take his poor, but, 
there are so many other young physicians 
who need a lucrative practice to enable 
them to live and support a family perhaps, 
that he advised Dr. Brewster to take such 
an assistant.” 

They talked on for some time longer. 
Leonora told her new friend much con- 
cerning herself, and found a sympathetic 
listener, interested in the simplest detail 
connected with a life so strange for a 
young girl. 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 135 

“How beautiful is the twilight hour,” 
said Mrs. Leighton. “It is then that I 
miss my daughter most. She loved it; 
and used to sit and sing softly to herself, 
with her hands lying idly in her lap. I can 
sometimes hear her voice again, when I 
am alone at the twilight hour.” 

“I will sing for you now if you wish,” 
said Leonora gently. 

“O, will you? How kind you are. I 
did not know you possessed that gift.” 

“I sing a little for my own pleasure. 
My German governess taught me some 
simple ballads, and I have always loved 
them.” 

Soon a fresh young voice broke the 
stillness of that twilight hour — a pure 
soprano voice of no great compass, but 
rich, and mellow, and full of feeling. 
When the last sweet note died away Mrs. 
Leighton said: — 

“I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed 
it. Will you think me selfish if I ask you 
to sing again?” 

“Not at all. I am glad if it gives you 
pleasure,” replied Leonora. 


136 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

She sang another simple German bal- 
lad with peculiar pathos and then em- 
boldened by the evident appreciation of 
her listener she broke into a favorite song 
of hers, Handel’s “Angels Ever Bright 
and Fair.” She sang it with a voice so 
full of the spirit of the song that one might 
almost fancy one could hear the gentle 
rustle of soft white wings in the stillness 
which followed. 

Leonora’s audience numbered more 
than she thought. During her first song 
Dr. Leighton alighted from a carriage at 
the gate and came quickly up the avenue. 
At the sound of her voice he walked upon 
the grass in order to muffle his footsteps. 
He stepped upon the porch unheard, and 
stood leaning against one of the pillars. 
The silence which followed the last song 
remained unbroken; still Richard lin- 
gered hoping to hear more. Finally he 
passed through the hall to the door of the 
room where he hoped to find his mother 
and her fair visitor. He looked in and 
could discern in the gloom only the figure 
of his mother lying on the couch. The 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 13 ? 

young songstress had fled, and when he 
said “Mother” very softly he received no 
reply. He knew that she had dropped 
asleep, so he seated himself in a large 
arm-chair by the window, and was soon 
absorbed in thought. 

Mrs. Leighton’s nap was short. She 
seemed to feel the presence of her son for 
he was roused from his reverie by her 
voice, saying plaintively : 

“Richard.” 

“Yes, Mother, I am here.” 

“O, my son. I have had such a beauti- 
ful dream. It seemed as if the whole 
room were flooded with light and in the 
midst was an angel clothed in robes of 
snowy white. She looked like our 
Laura with shining golden hair and the 
same sweet smile; but she had the dark 
lustrous eyes and the voice of our young 
neighbor.” 

“No doubt you were thinking of Laura, 
Mother. The spell of the twilight hour, 
the sweet voice and the subject of the 
song — all combined to carry you away 
to the land of “Angels Ever Bright and 


138 THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 

Fair” when you dropped for a few min- 
utes into the “Arms of Morpheus.” 

"I had given you up for to-night, Rich- 
ard. When did you arrive?” 

“Some time since. I did not feel equal 
to the jolting I was sure to get in that 
old coach; so hired a young man to bring 
me here in a more comfortable convey- 
ance.” 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 


139 


XIII. 

The days which followed Leonora’s 
first visit to Mrs. Leighton were as one 
long dream of happiness. A new life 
seemed to open for her — a life with peo- 
ple of liberal minds and tastes congenial 
to her own. The broken place in the 
fence had not been mended, in truth, it 
had been made larger; and, as the 
grounds were easier of access through it 
than by way of the front gate, Leonora 
slipped in and out whenever it suited her 
fancy. She would roam about at her 
own sweet will — free as a bird and just 
as happy. As she gained in health and 
strength much of that delicate, almost 
ethereal look disappeared, and she 
seemed to blossom into richer beauty day 
by day. 

Mrs. Leighton’s heart was completely 
won by Leonora’s gentle, sympathetic 
manner and sweet voice. As the days 
went by she became a constant source of 


140 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

comfort to the semi-invalid, whose life 
was more or less lonely, and whose condi- 
tion made her at times very sensitive to 
harsh sounds or rough manners. Mrs. 
Hargate, a middle-aged woman, who at- 
tended to the household affairs and 
waited upon Mrs. Leighton, was a kind 
hearted woman and very competent, but 
uneducated and hence not in the least 
congenial to her mistress. 

Leonora usually spent the morning 
hours at “The Manor’' reading aloud or 
working at some dainty piece of em- 
broidery. But they were seldom alone 
for Richard usually left his study to join 
them for an hour at least. Leonora grew 
to expect him, trying not to show her 
pleasure at his coming, but failing utterly, 
for she had not yet learned to hide her 
feelings. Her changing face was but the 
index to her thoughts within. Sometimes 
Richard would take up a book and read 
to them, while Leonora worked, and Mrs. 
Leighton reclined in her easy chair with 
eyes half closed. Often they would drop 
into easy conversation. It was then that 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 141 

Leonora revealed to Richard more and 
more her purity and refinement of mind. 
And it was during those hours, too, that 
she gained an insight into a truly Chris- 
tian home, whose inmates brought their 
religion into their daily lives — a religion 
which teaches love, charity and faith in 
Him who came to save mankind, that 
faith so beautiful in its purity and simplic- 
ity. 

All this was not without its influence 
upon Leonora. She knew it to have been 
her father’s religion, and she learned to 
revere the memory of the parent she had 
never known, because of his self-sacri- 
ficing love for the Jewish maiden whom 
he had made his wife. Had he not given 
up all for her save his religion — position, 
kindred, money, home? Religious sub- 
jects, however, were never discussed be- 
tween the friends. They respected each 
other’s belief, and they never allowed the 
difference in their religion to form a bar- 
rier between them. Once only did Leo- 
nora have occasion to bring that fact be- 
fore them. It came about in this way. 


142 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

She did not make her appearance at “The 
Manor’’ one Saturday after she had be- 
come a daily visitor there. Mrs. Leigh- 
ton had seen nothing of her since the 
morning before. But towards evening 
the young girl came tripping over the 
lawn singing softly. She joined her 
friends on the piazza, settled herself on 
a low stool at Mrs. Leighton’s feet and 
tossed her hat aside. 

“I have missed my little friend so 
much,” said Mrs. Leighton, stroking her 
soft brown hair. “Where has she been 
keeping herself since yesterday?” 

“This is our day of rest and worship — 
our Sabbath,” replied the young girl sim- 
ply. 

Although Leonora never spoke of her 
own faith — of the rights and ceremonials 
of the Jewish religion, Mrs. Leighton 
and her son both recognized that hers was 
a deeply religious temperament. She 
showed in many ways her reverence of 
the Almighty Father and saw the mani- 
festation of a Divine hand in all the works 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 143 

of nature, from the simplest flower to the 
most beautiful landscape. 

In the early part of the afternoon of 
those long summer days Mrs. Leigh- 
ton rested, but towards five o’clock she 
usually went with Richard for a drive. 
They always stopped for Leonora, and 
the three would go bowling along 
through some of the most picturesque 
parts of the Highlands. Those drives 
were Leonora’s greatest pleasure. The 
ever changing scenery of that region 
famed for its beauty proved a continual 
feast for her eyes. 

They were a happy trio. Mrs. Leigh- 
ton, because now in the presence of the 
young girl she felt the loss of her own 
lovely daughter less after all these years 
of grieving for her. Leonora, because 
of these new friends who had brought so 
much brightness into her life, and who 
were always so thoughtful of her in every 
way. And Richard, because of the spell 
which this gentle girl had unconsciously 
woven around him. He did not analyze 
his own feelings in the early days of their 


144 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

acquaintance. He knew only that there 
was something about her which touched 
a chord in his nature hitherto unknown 
to him. He had always believed that 
his profession would suffice to fill his life, 
when once he could give his time to it. 
A devoted son to his mother, ever cour- 
teous to one of her sex, and a friend to 
womankind in general, he had never 
thought to form closer ties. It had been 
his good fortune to meet some of the no- 
blest types of womanhood, yet he never 
pictured one as sitting by his own fireside, 
because the one had never crossed his 
path whom he cared to place there. 

And so the summer months glided by. 
Before they were aware of it they knew 
that in one short month more they must 
separate. Mr. Arnstein was expected 
home about October first and then Leo- 
nora and Lispeth must turn their faces 
homeward. Lispeth knew they would 
not be allowed to linger even for a day 
after his return. It came to Richard then 
with full force what this separation meant 
to him — how essential to his happiness 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 145 

the young girl had become. Life to him 
now without her would be dreary enough. 
She had stolen into his heart and he must 
keep her there, for he could not live 
without her. 

One lovely morning early in Septem- 
ber Mrs. Leighton and Leonora strolled 
into the little summer-house, where Rich- 
ard had first surprised his young neighbor 
that day early in June. Mrs. Leighton 
had been feeling much better of late and 
had taken to walking about the grounds 
a little each day. Richard came in search 
of them, carrying a basket of early fruit, 
and followed by Mrs. Hargate, who had 
prepared a collation of delicious lemonade 
and cake. Then Mrs. Leighton left them 
to inspect some purchases for the house, 
made by Mrs. Hargate, who had that 
morning returned from the city where 
she had been spending a day or two. 

The two young people were left alone. 
Richard laughingly referred to that day 
when he first met Leonora, as people 
sometimes will after they have learned to 
know each other better. He confessed to 


146 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

having seen Lispeth and Leonora from 
the upper window of the north wing sit- 
ting on the rustic seat, seemingly per- 
fectly at home — the one knitting, the 
other reading aloud. He told her also 
that he had descended to the grounds, 
loitering about with the idea of speaking 
to them, and bidding them welcome 
should chance so favor him. 

“You remember, Miss Leonora,” contin- 
ued Richard, “how chance semed to di- 
rect your foot-steps to the very spot where 
I was waiting — to this little summer- 
house. I gathered the roses for you then 
and bade you welcome. I would gather 
for you always the roses that grow in the 
pathway of life, stripping away as many 
of the thorns as shall lie in my power. 
I would welcome you to my home and 
keep you there as the light and joy of my 
life.” 

Then Richard poured out his love for 
the young girl whose sweet face became 
radiant with happiness as she listened to 
his impassioned words, but its expression 
changed ere he finished. Pale and trem- 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA . 147 

bling she arose and motioned for him to 
cease. 

“Ah! do not speak to me thus. In- 
deed, it cannot be. Do you not know 
this must not be? I am” — 

Leonora paused an instant and Rich- 
ard spoke the word she would have ut- 
tered — 

“A Jewess?” 

“Yes, a Jewess, and reared in the faith 
of the Jewish people,” replied the young 
girl, shrinking away from him and cover- 
ing her face with her hands. 

“I know all that you would say, Leo- 
nora,” said Richard gently. He drew 
her to a seat beside him. “There is one 
question I would ask of you. Do you 
love me, dear one?” 

For answer Leonora withdrew her 
hands, and Richard read the speaking 
face aright. He saw written there the 
deep love she bore him. “Yes, I love 
you, Richard,” she said softly; and the 
color came back, mounting to her fore- 
head and even tinting the dainty shell like 
ear, which was all Richard could see as 


148 THE JEWESS , LEONORA . 

she turned her blushing face from him. 
He lifted her hands to his lips and im- 
printed a kiss upon it, then held it tightly 
in both of his own while he spoke: — 

“I wish you to know, best beloved, 
that, notwithstanding my great love for 
you, I have not been without my mo- 
ments of reflection. I do not offer you 
the love of an impetuous boy, full of 
youthful fancies, who thinks only of the 
present. I have seen much of the world, 
and am older for my years than most 
men. I know what a union of two of 
such different faith brings as a rule — dis- 
cord and then unhappiness. But there 
have been exceptions to that rule and 
there can be again. In the case of your 
own parents” — 

Leonora interrupted him by an excla- 
mation of surprise. She turned quickly 
and looked at him earnestly, but before 
she could speak Richard said: — 

“Ah, yes. I know the story of their 
love and marriage. A friend of yours 
and mine has told me all. Believe me 
when I say that my love for you is none 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 149 

the less deep, and will prove all the more 
lasting even if I have stopped to reflect on 
these things. It has not been a question 
with me as to whether the woman I love 
will make me happy, but on the contrary 
as to whether I can make her happy. Be 
my wife, Leonora, and your happiness 
will ever be my first thought. Indeed, I 
cannot do without you now. Be a daugh- 
ter to my mother, who already loves you 
as such, and who will receive you with 
open arms. She has none of that nar- 
rowness of soul which believes that a 
marriage can be a happy one only as it 
conforms to certain customs of society.” 

“It was my mother’s wish that I should 
be brought up in the Jewish faith, and my 
father, although he was a Christian, 
would have carried out that wish, but he 
lived only one year after her death. My 
grandfather has taken care that I should 
grow up in ignorance of the fact that one 
of my parents was a Christian. It was 
only last June that I learned the truth. 
My mother expressed a desire that when 
I should become old enough to judge for 


150 THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 

myself I should be permitted to read and 
study without restriction the religion 
which my father loved, and to which he 
always adhered. You love me, Richard, 
and would make me your wife, even if I 
should never give up my faith?” 

“O, so gladly, dearest. We will study 
together the wonderful truths in the 
Word of God. I think that you will come 
in time to believe in, and accept, as your 
religion, that which was your father’s, 
and which is mine also; if not, well, trust 
me, little one — trust your future happi- 
ness into my hands and you will never re- 
gret it.” 

And so they plighted their troth; then 
Richard led the young girl into the 
presence of Mrs. Leighton and said 
proudly : — 

“Mother, I have brought you a daugh- 
ter.” 

Mrs. Leighton folded Leonora in her 
arms, kissed her lovingly and said in 
tones so full of tenderness: — 

“This is what I have longed for. You 
have made me very happy, my children.” 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


151 


XIV. 

The fifteenth day of September, 1849, 
found Enos Arnstein once more in his 
home in New York, having arrived in 
port that morning, accompanied by his 
nephew, Leon Arnstein. Towards even- 
ing of the same day he was sitting on the 
vine-covered porch, which extended 
along the rear of the house. It had been 
unusually warm and sultry all day, and 
even after the sun had set there was 
hardly a breath of air stirring. Mosqui- 
toes were troublesome, and he was smok- 
ing leisurely to keep them at a distance. 
He was in a most amiable mood, for he 
believed that he would soon see one of 
his most cherished plans perfected — that 
of uniting his grand-child in marriage 
with his nephew. He believed, too, that 
it was only a question of time when the 
casket with its precious contents would 
be found through his perseverance in 
tracing the mate to the silken mitt. He 


152 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

considered himself nearer the object of 
his search since he had succeeded in as- 
certaining where Marie Rabowski lived 
in England after leaving the Sturmer 
family. He had paid a visit to the cot- 
tage and learned through an old man, 
who had lived next door for many years, 
that a woman of the same name, answer- 
ing to her description, had purchased the 
cottage some twenty-odd years ago, and 
had taken up her abode in it, giving the 
impression that she intended ending her 
days there. She remained but a few 
months, however, and then disappeared. 
The house had been rented on a long 
lease to one family until about six months 
before, then it was sold. Its purchaser 
was a retired naval officer, who enjoyed 
a comfortable income. He had gone for 
a tour on the continent, and was not ex- 
pected home for some months. 

Mr. Arnstein hoped to learn from this 
man the name of the person through 
whom the sale was made, and hence trace 
the whereabouts of Marie Rabowski. He 
felt that to remain in London, and await 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 153 

the return of the owner of the cottage 
would be valuable time lost; so, after at- 
tending to all other business, he turned 
his face homeward with the determina- 
tion to hasten the marriage of these 
young people. He would then be free 
to return to England, and continue his 
search for the woman to whom was 
known, he felt quite sure, the hiding 
place of the precious casket. 

This man’s mind was full of the one 
great scheme of his life as he sat musing 
there alone. Spread upon a large table 
in the centre of his own private room was 
a map of the County of New York. If one 
could have looked over his shoulder, dur- 
ing the hours he was wont to study it so 
intently, one would see that there were 
small plots of ground marked out by red 
lines. These indicated the location of 
lots owned by himself in the small vil- 
lages north of New York, which have 
since been swallowed up by the great 
city. On most of these lots were frame 
buildings, the rental of which sufficed to 
pay the taxes. But the red lines were 


154 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

few in number, and the parcels of land 
bounded by them small in extent as com- 
pared with the blue lines, which marked 
out large tracts of land lying between 
these villages, that he hoped some day to 
get into his possesion, or rather into the 
possession of his two only relatives by 
means of the casket, which contained 
Leonora’s inheritance; and through the 
wealth which had come to Leon Arn- 
stein from his parents. 

Mr. Arnstein had spent much time in 
tracing out these pieces of ground, learn- 
ing the names of their owners, and the 
possibility of their willingness to sell. As 
he sat blowing rings of smoke into the 
still air, watching them slowly enlarge 
one by one, and intermingle with their 
predecessors, forming a thick cloud be- 
fore him, he dreamed dreams of the fu- 
ture growth and prosperity of the city, 
which would enrich the descendants of 
his family, and, as he had said to Lispeth 
years before, make the name of Arnstein 
a power in the next generation. Could 
he, by a wonderful foresight, penetrate 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 155 

those clouds of smoke and see far into 
the future? His desire to gain posses- 
sion of so much land lying in and be- 
tween those villages would seem to indi- 
cate that he could see in part that which 
has really taken place, but which at that 
time would have dazzled the eyes of the 
most sanguine — whole villages blotted 
out, and long tracts of open country, 
rocky and barren in many places, now 
covered with great piles of masonry 
built for all purposes — galleries of Art 
and Music, large business houses, yes, 
and even used as homes by thousands, as 
in case of the large apartment houses, 
towering heavenward many stories high. 
Where once were squatters’ shanties, and 
where the goat roamed at will, are streets 
lined with palatial homes, here and there 
a grand church, synagogue, college or 
institution of some sort — every foot of 
land utilized and many times more valua- 
ble even than Enos Arnstein imagined it 
would be forty-odd years ago. Yet some- 
thing of all this he seemed to see, and he 
felt confident of the success of his 


156 THE JEWESS y LEONORA. 

schemes. He was suddenly interrupted 
in his reverie, and brought back to the 
present by the appearance of a young 
man in the doorway, and a cheery voice 
saying,— 

“Well, Uncle Enos, you have found as 
cool a place as there is anywhere. The 
atmosphere is so oppressive. I believe 
it forebodes a storm.’' 

“No doubt,” replied Mr. Arnstein. 
“It is unusually warm for September, and 
these infernal mosquitoes are enough to 
drive one mad. Have a cigar, Leon, and 
help yourself to a seat.” 

“Thanks, Uncle. I believe I will.” 

The young man drew out a chair which 
stood just inside the hall, and was soon 
comfortably seated. 

Richard Leighton would not have 
compared favorably with Leon Arnstein 
so far as physical beauty was concerned. 
There could be no mistaking the race to 
which the latter belonged for he bore the 
marks, which distinguish the Jewish peo- 
ple in whatever clime they may be found. 
He was a representative of the noblest 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 157 

type of that people. The world has seen 
many such notwithstanding the adverse 
circumstances under which they have 
labored for many centuries of Christian 
intolerance. And the world is destined 
to see many more. It is only a question 
of time, which is slowly but surely rights 
ing all things. ' - - 
; \“I presume my fair cousin will be with 
us to-morrow at this hour,” said Leon, 
r “Yes, earlier than this,” replied his 
uncle. “You will then see for yourself 
that she is all I have represented — lovely, 
accomplished, and amiable.” 

“I do not doubt it, Uncle. But does 
Leonora know aught of this plan for her 
future?” 

“No, I deemed it best that she should 
be kept in ignorance of it yet a little 
while; at least until she has met you. But 
I must see this marriage consummated be- 
fore many weeks as I cannot tarry here. 
I have business in England which re- 
quires my attention. I do not see what 
more you can desire in a wife or she in a 


158 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

husband. You are exactly suited to 
each other in every respect.” 

“Possibly,” replied the young man. 
“Still, there may be wanting the one im- 
portant requirement for a happy mar- 
riage — love. I would never contract a 
loveless marriage myself. Neither would 
I ask the hand of a woman if she could 
not give her heart also. I had before me 
an example of such a marriage in the 
case of my own parents. From my ear- 
liest boyhood I knew that my father’s 
heart lay buried in the grave of his first 
wife. He had not one grain of affection 
for my mother, and was too true a man 
to affect what he did not feel. No more 
could I. My father was kind to my 
mother always, but she missed that which 
was essential to her loving nature, and I 
fully believe it saddened her life. Her 
marriage was arranged by her parents for 
convenience sake, which united wealth 
to wealth, a custom which prevails among 
our people. There may have been good 
reasons for such a custom in days gone 
by, and in countries where their wealth 


159 


piE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

was the only safe-guard of the Jews* 
They recognized in common with the 
rest of the world that money is power* 
Even great rulers have been glad to avail 
themselves of the gold of their Jewish 
subjects in times of financial distress, 
only to forget all obligations when after- 
wards appealed to in behalf of those sub- 
jects at indignities heaped upon them. 
However, those days have gone by and 
the old customs are fast dying out. Since 
you have set your heart upon this marriage, 
Uncle Enos, I hope things will turn out 
as you desire. I am glad my cousin 
knows nothing of all this, and I must re- 
quest you to give me time in which to 
gain her affection. I wish you would 
promise me not to make known the ob- 
ject of my visit here. It might have the 
effect of turning her against me at the 
outset. In any case it may prove that 
we can never entertain for each other 
anything more than a cousinly regard. 
If so, I intend returning to London to 
continue my studies for admission to the 
bar. I like England and my interests 


160 TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

are all there. I know there is a wide 
field here under this free government. 
If I marry my cousin Leonora and make 
my home in New York, no doubt I will 
become thoroughly Americanized, and 
as interested in this city as you seem to 
be; but for the present I am willing to 
wait — to drift awhile. I am quite a be- 
liever in that power called destiny, which 
presides over human life. I do not mean 
that I would sit idly and let events shape 
the whole course of my life with no effort 
on my part at moulding of character or 
carving a name among men. But I say 
there are certain things which cannot be 
forced, and perhaps the most important 
of these is love. There is truth in the 
words of the poet who said : — 

‘Love is not in our power, 

Nay, what seems stranger is not in our choice; 
We only love where fate ordains we should, 

And, blindly fond, oft slight superior merit.’” 

While Leon was speaking it came upon 
Mr. Arnstein with full force that here was 
a young man whom he could not bend to 
his will, who possessed an independence 
of thought and character against which 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 161 

it would be no easy matter to contend, 
who was of age and in full possession of 
his fortune, and who had what he consid- 
ered absurd ideas concerning marriage. 
He was forced to acknowledge to him- 
self that he must now respect the views 
of another concerning that attribute of 
the human mind and heart against which 
he had scoffed all his life. Whether or 
not he believed in it himself as a promoter 
of happiness, he saw it would prove in 
this instance the only medium through 
which his plans could be brought to per- 
fection. However docile and submis- 
sive to his wishes Leonora might be, 
there was another side to the question of 
which he had not thought — the possibil- 
ity of his nephew refusing to take an un- 
willing bride. “Unless she can give me 
her whole heart, Uncle, there can be no 
such thing as a marriage between us;” 
Leon had said later on. There was no 
other way than for Mr. Arnstein to 
comply with his request — give him time 
to win his bride, keeping silence the 
while. 


162 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

Leon could not see in the gloom of the 
fading day the dark frown on his uncle’s 
brow. Neither could he know the 
thoughts which filled the mind of this 
man of indomitable will and fierce tem- 
per. He had seen his uncle but once 
before in all his life, and then only during a 
short visit which Mr. Arnstein had made 
to his home about six years before. He 
had heard of the marriage of Leonora’s 
mother to a Christian, but knew none 
of the particulars of that marriage. He 
was entirely ignorant of the casket so 
diligently sought for by his uncle, which 
contained his young cousin’s inheritance. 
He did not suspect that there was a 
strong motive underlying Mr. Arnstein’s 
most urbane manner towards him — that 
the seeming deep concern in his affairs 
was only a matter of self interest. 

The two men remained outside some 
time longer talking on indifferent sub- 
jects. Finally Leon withdrew, saying 
he must write some letters before retir- 
ing. After he had gone Mr. Arnstein 
pondered long over his nephew’s words, 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 163 

and before going to rest he had fully per- 
suaded himself that all would turn out as 
he desired, notwithstanding the fact that 
he could not take the reins in his own 
hands and drive these two young people 
into marriage. “The wish is often 
father to the thought,” and so it was with 
Mr. Arnstein. He believed everything 
to be in favor of a happy result, so he re- 
solved to summon all the patience he 
possessed to his aid and wait, lest by 
undue haste he spoil all. 


164 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


XV. 

It was with a heavy heart and tearful 
eye that Leonora seated herself in the 
carriage, which was to convey her from 
the boat to her home in New York. She 
shrank as far back into the corner as she 
could, and drew a thick traveling veil 
over her face lest Mr. Arnstein, who had 
come to meet them, should detect the 
tears which would gather in her eyes, or 
notice what was impossible for her to 
conceal — her utter dejection at this home 
coming. It had all been so sudden — the 
unexpected summons which Lispeth 
dared not disregard, the hasty packing, 
and the parting from those who had be- 
come so dear to her. She felt as though 
she had left all that was best and brightest 
in her life behind her to return once more 
to that home, which had ever seemed a 
prison to her. 

Mr. Arnstein greeted her with more 
warmth than ever before, his manner was 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 165 

kind and his tones almost gentle; yet all 
that passed unnoticed by the young girl 
whose thoughts were far away. She 
seemed to see the beautiful Highlands 
still, and the pretty white cottage where 
she had passed the happiest days of her 
life. The soothing, gentle tones of Mrs. 
Leighton, as she bade farewell to the sor- 
rowful girl, sounded in her ears once 
more. But saddest of all had been the 
parting from him who was all the world 
to her. “Only a little while, dearest, and 
I shall come to claim you,” Richard had 
whispered, but the words did not seem 
to give much consolation to Leonora, 
whose greatest fear was that her grand- 
father would never give his consent to 
her marriage, for was she not following in 
the footsteps of her mother in giving her 
love to a Christian? Nearly three years 
must elapse before she would be of age 
and free to act for herself. “So much 
can happen in the meantime,” she had 
said to Lispeth'in mournful tones, when 
the good woman tried to comfort her as 
the boat bore them away — back to the 


166 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

old life, so thought Leonora with a sink- 
ing heart. 

“Your grandfather may not give his 
consent to your marriage, dearie ; but you 
can wait until his guardianship ends, if 
he will give you a home until then ; if not, 
you will find that you have kind friends to 
protect you. However, we will wait and 
see,” said Lispeth complacently. “He is 
entitled to your confidence when you 
choose to give it to him, and it is right 
that you should ask his permission to 
marry Dr. Leighton. More than that he 
cannot expect of you.” 

Mr. Arnstein’s manner towards the 
young girl was not lost on Lispeth. She 
knew what it all meant — he believed that 
he was bringing Leonora home to make 
her the wife of his nephew. The old 
woman sat grim and silent throughout 
the drive, stealing an occasional glance at 
her master, who was sitting just opposite. 
She thought, if Leon Arnstein were really 
an inmate of his uncle’s home, it might 
mean freedom from study, and a change 
in the monotonous routine of the old life 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 167 

for her young charge; and the thought 
gave her much comfort. 

The carriage stopped before the door. 
Mr. Arnstein alighted first. Lispeth took 
the opportunity to whisper to the young 
girl:— 

“Cheer up, little one, life in the old 
home may be brighter than you antici- 
pate.” 

During the drive, Leonora could not 
shake off the feeling of depression which 
came over her when she first stepped on 
shore. She ascended the steps slowly as 
one in a dream, but hardly had she 
crossed the threshold when she was sud- 
denly brought to herself at the sound of 
a fresh, manly voice in that quiet house — 
one of those voices good to hear, which 
always cheers and uplifts the desponding. 

“Well Uncle,” it said, “you have re- 
turned at last. I have been waiting and 
somewhat impatiently too, I fear.” 

“The boat was late, my boy. Leo- 
nora, this is your cousin Leon, who is 
making his first visit to America. Give 
him your greeting.” 


168 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

Leonora threw back her veil and Leon 
beheld the sweet face of the young girl 
whom he had crossed the water to meet, 
possibly to make his wife, if fate should 
so decree. Leonora drew back in sur- 
prise and her face wore a startled expres- 
sion, but it changed instantly as she en- 
countered the frank, kindly look in the 
handsome eyes of her cousin, felt the pres- 
sure of his hand for an instant, and heard 
the same cheery tones addressing her: — 

“This is the little cousin I have wanted 
so long to know. My only kinswoman, 
too. We must be friends at once. Do 
you not think so, cousin mine?” 

“I do indeed,” replied Leonora with a 
smile which was her chief charm. Her 
face in repose was almost too thoughtful 
for one so young, but her smile lighted 
up the whole face, and so changed its ex- 
pression as to quite startle the beholder. 

When Leonora found herself in her 
room alone with Lispeth, she said 
eagerly : — 

“O, Lispeth, tell me, is this the cousin 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 169 

in whose father’s house my mother passed 
her childhood?” 

“Yes, dearie, but he is the child of your 
Uncle Reuben’s second wife. He was 
your great uncle of course. If you re- 
member I told you that he married again. 
It was just after your mother went to live 
in Berlin with her father. This young 
man is your second cousin.” 

“Ah! I remember now,” replied Leo- 
nora. She sat silent for some time, busy 
with her own thoughts ; finally she said : — 
“I am so glad Cousin Leon is here, Lis- 
peth.” 

It was with a much lighter heart that 
Leonora obeyed the summons to dinner 
about two hours later. She wore a dress 
of soft white material relieved by ribbons 
of pale pink. A delicate flush was on her 
cheek, and her dark eyes shone with the 
lustre of perfect health. Mr. Arnstein 
himself felt the charm of her exquisite 
beauty, and he was satisfied with what 
those months in the country had done 
for her. However, there was something 
about his grandchild which puzzled him. 


170 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

He missed the shy dreamy girl whom he 
had always known. There was a certain 
quiet dignity about her, and she seemed 
to have acquired an ease of manner and a 
confidence in herself for which he was not 
prepared. When Leonora first entered 
the drawing-room, where Mr. Arnstein 
and her cousin awaited her before going 
to dinner, she addressed him whom she 
had been taught to call father as grand- 
father. Mr. Arnstein started as if sud- 
denly stung, and before he could speak, 
Leonora said simply: — 

“Lispeth yielded to my entreaty to tell 
me about my mother. Of course she 
could not do so without revealing my true 
relationship to you. I wish to be called 
by my own name now, please grand- 
father.” 

The suavity of her grandfather’s man- 
ner towards her in Leon’s presence gave 
way to sudden anger, and the fierce ex- 
pression, with which Leonora was only 
too familiar, shone in his dark eyes. She 
turned quickly and walked over to her 
cousin who was standing by the window 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 171 

looking out. Mr. Arnstein did not trust 
himself to speak, but hastened to the din- 
ing-room where dinner was awaiting 
them. 

Leon heard Leonora’s words, but did 
not see the anger in his uncle’s eyes; yet 
he felt that there was something unusual 
in all this. It had never occurred to him 
that his cousin had been kept in igno- 
rance of her true name, and of her rela- 
tionship to Mr. Arnstein. His tones 
were full of sympathy when he spoke to 
the lonely, motherless girl — for he seemed 
to know intuitively that her life had been 
a lonely one. His eyes smiled so kindly 
upon her that Leonora was drawn 
towards him at once, and when they went 
into the dining-room together they were 
chatting pleasantly. Even Mr. Arnstein’s 
dark, forbidding expression seemed not to 
affect them. As the meal progressed, 
however, his displeasure gave place to 
surprise at the change in his grandchild. 
Although the great improvement which 
renewed health had made in Leonora’s 
appearance delighted him, her altered 


172 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

manner filled him with a vague fear which 
he could not have defined. When they 
returned to the drawing-room he found 
himself studying her with an interest he 
had never felt before. Possibly because 
he had always looked upon her as a 
young creature whom he had trained 
from infancy to obey without question his 
slightest behest. He had thought of her 
less as an individual with mind and will 
and tastes of her own, than as a means 
towards the achievement of a great end. 

Leonora showed her grandfather all 
the deference due him as a parent. She 
was gentle and even affectionate in her 
manner, since, for the first time in his 
life, he chose to relax his habitual severity 
towards her. But he saw that the young 
girl no longer stood in awe of him — the 
old submissive demeanor, and the quick 
lowering of the eyelids when he addressed 
her as in those other days, were gone. 
Once or twice when she felt her grand- 
father’s eyes riveted upon her in earnest 
scrutiny, she met his glance so carelessly 
and fearlessly that he was at a loss to ac- 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 173 

count for all this. He asked himself the 
question — how much does she know con- 
cerning her parents? He determined to 
find out all that Lispeth had told her be- 
fore the close of another day. 

Mr. Arnstein’s vague fears, lest his 
long cherished plan regarding these two 
young people should fail, were banished, 
however, when he saw how soon they be- 
came interested in each other, and how 
congenial were their tastes. Before the 
trio separated for the night he was quite 
confident of his success, and especially 
so when he heard Leonora say to Lispeth 
on entering her room: — 

“O, Lispeth dear, I do like Cousin 
Leon so much. And is he not hand- 
some? I think” — 

Mr. Arnstein heard no more for the 
door suddenly closed. It was enough to 
cause him to lie awake a long time, won- 
dering how soon he could manage to 
bring this marriage about, in order that 
he might depart on his journey in search 
of the precious casket. 

As the days went by Mr. Arnstein had 


174 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

every reason to believe the wish of his 
heart would be gratified, for he judged 
by outward appearances. Knowing so 
little of young people he did not consider 
that it was the exception and not the rule 
when they failed to find pleasure in each 
other’s society. The best of good feeling 
had been at once established between the 
cousins, and there was hardly an hour of 
the day that they were not together. 
Leon was always planning some pleasure 
which Leonora could share, and she grew 
to think of him as the most delightful of 
cousins. The young girl marveled much 
concerning the change in her grand- 
father’s manner towards her, and the free- 
dom she enjoyed. The old days seemed 
far away, so much had come into her life 
since she sat with Lispeth in St. John’s 
Park that day in early spring when, weary 
in body and mind she longed for — she 
knew not what. 

One evening when Leonora had been 
at home about two weeks, she was sitting 
at the piano playing for her cousin, who 
was lolling back in an easy chair listening 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 175 

to the music and thinking over something 
which puzzled him. Leonora seemed to 
be very happy with Leon, and they had 
merry times together; still her frank, 
cousinly manner did not satisfy him, and 
he was conscious of a certain line beyond 
which he could not venture with her — 
there was an indefinable something about 
her, which forbade even the slightest at- 
tempt at affectionate demonstration. 
Leon noticed, too, that Leonora occa- 
sionally had moments of abstraction — her 
thoughts were then far away, and she 
would even forget her cousin’s presence. 
Is it possible, thought he, that someone 
has won her heart — that she already 
loves? The thought was hardly formed 
ere he banished it, for he could not bear 
to think of her as belonging to another. 
She had become very dear to him, al- 
though he knew she was perfectly un- 
conscious of his entertaining for her a 
feeling, which was fast ripening into love. 
The last sweet notes of Schumann’s 
“Traumeri” died softly away, and Leo- 
nora sat silent for a few moments, her 


176 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

hands resting idly on the keys, but mak- 
ing no sound. 

“Cousin mine,” said Leon gently, “tell 
me if I was right in thinking that you 
were most unhappy on the day of your 
return. I cannot forget the dejected lit- 
tle figure I saw alight from the carriage, 
and the tear-stained face which looked 
at me when the friendly veil was lifted.” 

“You are right, Cousin Leon; but I 
did not know then that I should find 
here one who would do so much to make 
me happy. I believed that my home- 
coming meant a return to the lonely life 
I had always known.” 

“Were those months in the country 
such happy ones?” asked Leon. 

“Ah, you cannot know what those 
months have been to me. I seemed 
merely to have existed before. I have be- 
gun to live since then. It matters not 
what joys may be mine in the years to 
come, I shall never again know such ex- 
quisite happiness as has come into my 
life during the summer which has passed, 
simply because the first taste of freedom 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 177 

is the sweetest. I left the narrow groove 
in which I had toiled for many years — 
yes toiled, for the tasks put upon me were 
very arduous, and often too great for 
my strength. The pleasures and diver- 
sions of other girls were never mine. I 
had masters and governesses to be sure; 
but mother, sister or young friends, I 
have never known. Do you wonder that 
I began to droop at last, and” — 

Mr. Arnstein entered just then followed 
by a servant with lights. He felt that he 
had interrupted a tcte-a-tete in the fading 
lights, and groaned inwardly at his stu- 
pidity, thinking he might have been the 
cause of delaying still longer what he so 
earnestly hoped for. His first thought 
on rising in the morning was always — 
will to-day see them betrothed? The 
days seemed fairly to drag along while he 
waited; and he dared not show his impa- 
tience. He knew it would be of no use, 
for Leon, at least, was not to be hurried. 
Mr. Arnstein withdrew shortly, leaving 
the young people alone once more. 

Leon wondered much as to the exact 


178 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

cause and nature of the “exquisite hap- 
piness” to which Leonora referred. After 
the door had closed upon Mr. Arnstein 
he hoped that the subject would be re- 
newed — that the young girl would open 
her whole heart to him, but he was disap- 
pointed. Leonora did not seem to be in- 
clined to talk of herself again that even- 
ing. 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 


179 


XVI. 

St. John’s Park once again. The same 
grand old tree in the northeast corner, 
and beneath it the same bench to which 
the reader has been conducted twice be- 
fore. The occupants this time were Leo- 
nora and her cousin Leon. They had 
strolled into this little Park one Sunday 
morning when Leonora had been home 
about a month. 

It was one of those glorious days in 
October, which often follows a sudden 
frost. The air was clear and pure. The 
trees in their autumn robes formed a 
canopy of rich coloring above them. 
Spread out at their feet was a carpet of 
Nature’s own handiwork — patches of 
grass still green were visible here and 
there, making a ground-work for the 
beautiful shades of russet, gold, and red 
borrowed from the wealth and beauty 
above. A Sabbath calm pervaded over 
all. There were few loiterers within the 


180 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

park and few passers-by in the street 
without, as service had already begun in 
St. John’s church. The rich, deep tones 
of the organ reached the two young peo- 
ple, sitting there in silence, for the Sab- 
bath hush seemed to affect them also. 

Leonora was thinking of Richard, and 
of the time scarcely a month hence when 
he would come and formally ask her 
grandfather’s consent to their marriage. 
She longed for that day, yet at times she 
was filled with misgivings. She feared 
her grandfather’s anger, and was quite 
sure he would carry out his intention of 
taking her abroad, as he had spoken sev- 
eral times of returning to England in the 
near future. 

The young girl’s thoughtful manner 
was not lost on Leon. He had felt for 
several days past that his surmise two 
weeks ago was true as to the possibility 
of his cousin having already given her 
love to another. He wished to know the 
truth notwithstanding the pain it would 
give him. He foresaw trouble for his 
cousin, knowing how much his uncle had 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 181 

set his heart on a marriage for her of his 
own planning. He hoped to find him- 
self mistaken, but, if not, he must soon 
go away, for every day would only make 
his own pain greater — his own disap~ 
pointment more bitter. He desired to 
win her confidence, and was wondering 
how best to introduce the subject, when 
Leonora herself broke the silence with a 
question which startled him, — 

“Cousin Leon, do you know what it is 
to love someone very dearly ?” She 
spoke as if half soliloquizing, and before 
the young man could frame an answer 
to her question she continued, “I do not 
mean as one would love a parent, a sis- 
ter or a brother, but in quite a different 
way. O, I do not think I can make you 
understand just what it is to care for 
someone so much that you would give up 
all you hold most dear to pass your life 
by the side of that one.” 

“Ah, I do understand, Cousin Leo- 
nora, for I too love like that.” 

“Then you are betrothed, also. Tell 


182 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

me all about it, will you Cousin?” said 
Leonora eagerly. 

‘’I have not said lam betrothed, Cousin 
mine.” 

“Well, you will be some day, I am sure. 
Perhaps you have not asked the one you 
love for her love in return.” 

“No, I have not asked her.” 

“Do not defer it long, dear Cousin, for 
you are missing much,” said Leonora 
gently. She did not look at him else she 
would have seen in the drawn expression 
of the young man’s face something of 
what he suffered, in spite of his effort to 
conceal it. Although not wholly unpre- 
pared for what Leonora had just told 
him, he had not fully realized until now 
what it meant for him. The brightness 
seemed suddenly to have gone out of his 
life, and the words he would fain have 
spoken to his little cousin in her happi- 
ness, came not at his bidding. There was 
silence for a few moments while Leonora 
sat looking dreamily before her. Then 
it seemed to occur to her that she had be- 
gun to tell her cousin of this happiness, 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 183 

which had come into her life — of this 
great love, which had entered her heart 
and filled her whole being. She said in 
a low, firm tone, — 

“Cousin Leon, the man who has won 
my love, and to whom I have plighted my 
troth is of my father's religion — a Chris- 
tian.” 

Leon started from her side as if stung. 
What is this? Does he hear aright? To 
be sure his thoughts concerning this love 
of Leonora’s had never taken definite 
shape. He had not gone so far as to 
form a picture in his mind of the man of 
her choice; yet he would never have 
dreamed of this — so strictly Jewish had 
been her training — so carefully had she 
been guarded from all association with 
Christians. In truth, he knew that her 
grandfather had not even allowed her the 
society of young people among her own 
faith, lest she should form some early aL 
tachment, which might cause him 
trouble, if not wholly upset his own plans 
regarding her. It is often the case with a 
young girl, who has no brothers and sis- 


184 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

ters, and especially where she has been 
denied even one girl friend on whom, 
girl fashion, she can lavish her affection. 
Thoughts like these crowded into Leon’s 
mind as he paced up and down the broad 
path in front of Leonora, who sat in a 
listless attitude — her hands lying idly in 
her lap and her sweet face wearing a 
troubled expression. The young man 
glanced once at the lovely girl who had 
become so dear to him, and ’twas then 
that the Tempter whispered to him — she 
can be yours yet if you will only become 
a party to your uncle’s plans. He will 
never consent to her marriage to a Chris- 
tian — he will, no doubt, attempt to force 
her to marry you — take her, however un- 
willing, and once your wife you can 
travel in foreign lands; you can, by your 
devotion, cause her to forget this pass- 
ing fancy, and she will learn to 
love you in time. These thoughts took 
flight as quickly as they came — they 
could not find lodgment in the noble 
mind of Leon Arnstein. He resumed 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 185 

his seat beside the young girl, and said to 
her in low, gentle tones; — 

“Tell me of this love of yours, little 
cousin.” 

Leonora looked up at him in her own 
sweet way, and, reading in those kind 
eyes the sympathy for which she craved, 
she poured out the whole story of her love 
for Richard Leighton. As she went on 
and told what the past summer had 
brought to her, Leon studied the expres- 
sive face before him — the unspeakable 
happiness written there, and the tones 
thrilling with the intensity of feeling re- 
vealed to him how this gentle girl could 
love. He thought of her mother, whose 
story he knew only in part, owing to the 
reticence of his father’s people on the 
subject, yet he saw the similarity of 
Judith Arnstein’s love and early marriage 
with this love of Leonora’s, although in 
the case of her mother both parents were 
Jewish while Leonora claimed one par- 
ent of the Christian faith. 

“It was Dr. Leighton’s desire,” con- 
tinued Leonora, to go at once to my 


1S6 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

grandfather and ask his consent to our 
marriage, but Lispeth begged us to defer 
it. She wished us to wait at least until 
next June, which would be one year from 
the time we first met; but Dr. Leighton 
would not agree to it. He is coming to 
New York this winter to enter upon his 
professional duties. He declares he will 
not live in the same city without visiting 
me. Indeed it would be very hard for 
us both. My grandfather must be told, 
and then, if he will not sanction our mar- 
riage, why we must wait until I am of 
age.” 

“In the mean time do you think Uncle 
Enos will permit Dr. Leighton’s visits?” 
asked Leon in hesitating tones, which 
betrayed his doubts on the subject. 

“I do not know, Cousin Leon, indeed 
I do not know, and it is that which 
troubles me at times. It seems so long 
to wait until I am twenty-one. Well, 
this suspense will not last much longer. 
In less than a month Richard will come to 
claim me. Lispeth finally succeeded in 
gaining his promise to defer his coming 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 187 

for two months. One has already passed 
away.” 

“Ah!” thought Leon bitterly, “in Uncle 
Enos’ desire to bring about a union be- 
tween Leonora and myself, by keeping 
her all her life apart from the world, 
thinking thus to make her more suscepti- 
ble to the wooing of her first lover, 
whom he has intended should be none 
other than myself — how little does he 
dream now that first love has already en- 
tered this tender, affectionate heart so 
prepared to receive it, in consequence of 
the dearth of human love most essential 
to one of her nature. Just as the flowers 
turn towards the sunshine, which causes 
them to blossom into rich beauty under 
its life-giving rays, so has her heart 
turned towards the rays of love, and there 
has blossomed in that heart a love beauti- 
ful to see, which will prove all enduring, 
everlasting. O, why could not I have 
been the first to try for this almost price- 
less treasure — this pure love. Had it not 
been for the breaking down of her health 
under the severe discipline of her grand- 


188 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

father, she might have accompanied him 
to England, instead of going to the little 
cottage among the Highlands where she 
met the man to whom she is betrothed. 
Yet stay! is not here the decree of that 
destiny which presides over human life 
in which Leon has always asserted his be- 
lief? Or better still, is not this the evi- 
dence of the interposition of that Higher 
Power, which sometimes uses strange 
agencies to bring about what is best for 
man? The child of Judith Sturmer will 
marry a Christian — will in time embrace 
the faith of her husband, and thus the de- 
scendants of Karl Sturmer will be Chris- 
tians.” So reasoned Leon as he sat be* 
side his cousin on this quiet Sabbath 
morning. A day so peacefully begun 
but which was destined to prove to Leo- 
nora the stormiest of her life. 

“Little Cousin,” said Leon, whose 
thoughts turned upon Mr. Arnstein and 
his plans, “do you know what I would do 
in your case? I would not defer another 
day telling your grandfather that you are 
betrothed, and desire his consent to your 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 189 

marriage. Believe me, I understand 
Lispeth’s motive in asking you to wait. 
She has thought — Leon hesitated — well 
no matter what she has thought — such 
love as yours never changes,” he con- 
tinued in an undertone, half to himself. 

Leonora caught the words, however, 
and looked up quickly into his face; but 
she saw nothing there which could ex- 
plain his meaning. Afterwards she un- 
derstood, and her sympathetic heart bled 
at the thought of the bitter sorrow, which 
this noble young man must learn to bear. 

“I will speak to Lispeth about it,” said 
Leonora, “she has ever been a true and 
faithful friend. I have never known a 
mother’s love, and she has tried to fill that 
lack in my life.” 

“Ah, yes, little one, do speak to her 
about it and tell her it is my advice. She 
will see that I am right.” 

“Come, let us go home now,” said Leo- 
nora, rising. “See, the people are pour- 
ing out of church. It must be past the 
noon hour.” 


190 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

“Yes, it is, Cousin,” replied Leon, look- 
ing at his watch. “We will go.” And 
the two young people walked slowly and 
silently home. 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


191 


XVII. 

That evening as Mr. Arnstein was de- 
scending the stairs in response to the 
summons to supper, he glanced into the 
drawing-room, and what he saw in that 
glance caused him to stop a few moments 
on the lowest landing, which was directly 
opposite one of the two doors opening 
into the hall from the drawing-room. Re- 
flected in a mirror he saw what filled his 
soul with delight. He believed he was 
gazing upon a love scene between Leon 
and Leonora. Had this been true it 
never occurred to him that he was play- 
ing a dishonorable part in looking upon 
what was not intended for his eyes. What 
he saw was to him but a scene 
in the last act of the great drama 
of his life, which would soon bring 
all things to a happy ending. He 
could not hear what Leon was saying 
to his cousin, but he saw both standing 
as if they had just risen from their chairs. 


192 TEE JEWESS , LEONORA . 

which, from their position, showed that 
they had been sitting close together. The 
young man was holding Leonora’s hands 
in both his own, and was bending towards 
her in an attitude, which would be con- 
sidered most lover-like. He was talk- 
ing earnestly, and Leonora’s lovely face 
was turned towards him. Her eyes were 
uplifted gazing into his with a sweet, 
pleading expression. The young girl 
spoke a few words and Mr. Arnstein saw 
Leon raise her hands to his lips. What 
might have followed he could not tell for 
footsteps above warned him that Lispeth 
was coming, so he hastened on to the din- 
ing-room. His passing through the hall 
reminded Leonora and Leon that they 
had risen to obey the summons to the 
evening meal. They soon joined Mr. 
Arnstein. Their manner puzzled him. 
He found himself studying them both 
with deep interest. Shrewd man of the 
world that he was, priding himself on his 
power of reading men, and fathoming the 
motives which underlie their actions, yet 
he could not read these two young peo- 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 193 

pie, who had not learned the art of dis- 
simulation. He did not understand them 
simply because he would persist in fancy- 
ing he saw what was not there. He 
wished them to be lovers; hence believed 
they must be. 

Leon talked less than was his wont, 
and when he did speak there was some- 
thing missing in those usually hearty 
tones. He seemed to have suddenly left 
his boyhood behind him; his face wore a 
grave expression never seen upon it be- 
fore. Leonora’s manner towards him 
was gentle — almost tender. Those few 
moments in the drawing room had re- 
vealed to her how truly noble was the 
heart that beat beneath the gay, even 
careless exterior. The words she had 
spoken to her cousin, which Mr. Arnstein 
had been unable to hear, but which he be- 
lieved to be the words of love, were, in 
truth, her expression of thanks for his 
brotherly sympathy and protestations of 
friendship, which Leon had assured her 
would endure through all time. 

“Grandfather,” said Leonora, after 


194 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

they had left the dining-room and Mr. 
Arnstein was preparing to go out, “there 
is something very important that I must 
speak with you about. It greatly con- 
cerns my happiness. Will you come into 
the drawing-room, please?” At the same 
time, the young girl linked her arm 
within that of her cousin and drew him 
into the room with her. 

Mr. Arnstein was surprised at this re- 
quest, for, although he felt sure, as he 
thought of the little scene he had wit- 
nessed scarcely an hour since, that he 
knew what his grandchild wished to say 
to him. He had looked forward almost 
daily to the gratification of his heart’s de- 
sire as the result of bringing these two 
young people together; yet he was hardly 
prepared for this from his grandchild. It 
was from Leon’s lips that he had expected 
to hear these words, and he wondered 
why he should stand so silently there by 
the window, looking out into the gloom 
of fading day. Still those words were 
none the less welcome, and he felt too re- 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 195 

joiced to hear them at all to care which 
of the two chose to speak them. 

“I had thought to defer this yet a little 
longer, Grandfather,” said Leonora, “but 
it seems best to tell you now. I have be- 
trothed myself to one who loves me 
dearly, and whom I love in return better 
than my life. I ask your blessing and 
consent to our marriage.” 

Leonora’s voice trembled as she spoke 
the first few words, but thoughts of Rich- 
ard gave her courage, and, when she 
asked her grandfather’s blessing, her 
tones were clear and firm, and her sweet 
brown eyes looked straight into his. 

“I will tell you all,” she added, “and 
then if you think me too young, why we 
are willing to wait, but” — 

“I am glad to hear this of all things, 
dear child,” interrupted Mr. Arnstein. 
“You are young to be sure; but early 
marriages are often the happiest.” He 
spoke in extremely gracious tones, yet 
they expressed most inadequately the joy 
that filled his heart. His eyes shone with 


196 TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

a triumphant light as he turned to his 
nephew and said: — 

“Come, my boy, and receive my bless- 
ing on you both. You know how I have 
looked forward to this moment.” 

Leon left his position by the window, 
and advanced slowly towards Mr. Arn- 
stein. The pained expression on his face 
showed the effort it cost him to speak — 
but speak he must in order to undeceive 
his uncle at once. 

Leonora’s eyes were open wide with 
surprise at her grandfather’s words. She 
seemed about to speak, but Leon, with a 
slight motion of his hand enjoined 
silence. 

“I cannot receive your blessing with 
my little cousin, but I can join with you 
in wishing her every joy, and may God 
grant her a long and happy life with the 
man who is so fortunate in having won 
her love.” 

“Why, man, what is this I hear? You 
jest, and this is no time for jesting!” ex- 
claimed Mr. Arnstein. “No, you are 
pale! What is the meaning of all this?” 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 197 

The bewildered man seized his nephew by 
the arm, and fastened his piercing eyes 
upon his face as if he would read his very 
soul. “The truth, boy! the truth, I 
say!” 

“I have spoken the truth. Leonora’s 
love is given to another. She will marry 
the man of her choice.” 

Leon’s words fairly stunned Mr. Arn- 
stein at first. He turned to his grand- 
child in a dazed, helpless sort of way as if 
she might set things right; but no contra- 
diction of what the young man had just 
said came from those lips. In the expres- 
sion of Leonora’s face he read the whole 
truth, and like a flash his manner 
changed. He advanced towards her. 
His eyes gleamed fiercely, and, when he 
spoke, his tones vibrated with passion 
which he made no effort to suppress : — 

“Girl, what right had you to betroth 
yourself unknown to me? Think you 
that I will permit you to marry other than 
the one I have chosen for you? Never! 
There stands the man who is to be your 
husband.” 


198 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

Mr. Arnstein pointed to Leon, then 
seized the young girl by the arm, and be- 
fore she was aware of what he was going 
to do, he had thrust her before her 
cousin. Leon grasped her hand and 
drew her to his side as if to protect her 
from this man’s fearful anger, the like of 
which he had never seen. 

“I will befriend my little cousin always, 
but I have told you, Uncle, that I will 
never take an unwilling bride. You can- 
not force this marriage upon me, at least; 
for I am my own master, sir!” 

“Fool! Do you know what you are do- 
ing?” exclaimed Mr. Arnstein. “Do you 
know what this means to you — to me — 
yes, and to this foolish girl, who imagines 
that love, or say rather a passing fancy, 
can take the place of all she would gain 
by a marriage with you?” 

“Let not a question of gain enter here, 
Uncle,” returned Leon, “but listen rather 
to the story of Leonora’s love; for then 
you cannot but see that all things are or- 
dered for the best. Give her your bless- 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 199 

in g and your consent to her marriage 
with Dr. Leighton.” 

“Dr. Leighton! Dr. Leighton! That 
has the sound of a Christian name ! Girl, 
you dare not tell me that you have 
plighted your troth to a Christian!” 
yelled the enraged man. 

“I dare to tell you so because I 
must, Grandfather,” said Leonora. But 
her face paled, her form trembled with 
fear, and she clung to her cousin for pro- 
tection, as she saw the effect of her words 
upon Mr. Arnstein. A demoniacal light 
leaped into his dark eyes. He raised his 
arm and would have struck her down in 
his blind rage had not Leon seized the 
arm in his own strong grasp and held 
him at bay. 

“Hold, sir! Would you strike a de- 
fenseless girl?” exclaimed the young 
man, looking straight into the terrible 
eyes so close to his. 

The baffled man saw the whole struc- 
ture of his hopes and plans razed to the 
ground by the very ones whom he be- 
lieved were to cement and strengthen it; 


200 TEE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

and all the fierceness of his nature found 
expression in his face. A few seconds 
the two men remained thus looking 
fixedly at each other. Leon stood with 
one arm around his cousin’s waist, the 
other upraised in her defense. Then as 
if something in the young man’s calm, 
steadfast gaze quelled the demon of rage, 
which held possession of the elder man, 
and looked out through his eyes, and as 
if that once strong will, weakened by the 
conflict within was brought into subjec- 
tion by the same power, the arm relaxed 
and, when Leon released his hold, it fell 
to his side. A few seconds more and Mr. 
Arnstein again raised it, but this time to 
point towards the door and say to Leo- 
nora in tones strangely calm, while a 
deadly pallor overspread his features: — 

“Go! ungrateful girl! You are noth- 
ing to me from this day forth ! I will give 
you a home no longer!” 

Leonora needed no second bidding. 
She flew into the outstretched arms of 
Lispeth, who appeared in the door-way 
just at that moment. 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 201 

“She can leave your home for mine, 
sir!” cried the old woman. All the pent 
up hatred of years for this man whom she 
served, finding vent in the tones with 
which she addressed him. 

“Your home!” exclaimed Mr. Arn- 
stein. 

“Yes, my home,” returned the old 
woman. “Know you this, sir, that old 
Lispethcan provide for the child of Judith 
Sturmer, the second outcast from the 
home of one who has again been thwarted 
in his plans, because he cannot crush love 
from the heart for the sake of wealth and 
name.” 

“Begone, then! Begone at once ! Your 
very presence is hateful to me! But stay 
— I will give you one day in which to 
leave my house forever with all your be- 
longings, provided I do not see you dur- 
ing that time !” 

“We do not want a day, sir! No, nor 
an hour even! We can go now!” re- 
torted Lispeth. Then, turning quickly, 
she ascended the stairs followed by Leo- 


nora. 


202 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

When they reached their room the 
young girl sank utterly exhausted into a 
large arm-chair. The strain upon her 
sensitive nerves had proved too great. 
She leaned back with closed eyes, and 
Lispeth feared at first that she had 
swooned; but the sweet brown eyes soon 
opened, and she drank some wine which 
Lispeth hastily poured out for her. 

“Cheer up, little one,” said the old 
woman in tender, soothing tones. “The 
worst is over now; and we will soon be 
gone from here forever.” 

“Where are we going, Lispeth, dear?” 

“To Dr. Brewster’s for to-night.” 

“And to-morrow?” asked Leonora 
eagerly, half guessing what Lispeth 
would say. 

“Back to the little cottage in the High- 
lands, dearie. Back to your own love.” 

The words acted like magic on the 
young girl ; the color returned to her pale 
cheeks, and her eyes shone with a happy 
light. It was not long before they were 
ready to depart, having donned their out- 
door garments, and tossed a few articles 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 203 

into a small satchel. As they were leav- 
ing the room where Leonora had passed 
so many years of her life, she gave one 
last look at the familiar objects about her, 
and then closed the door behind her with- 
out one pang of regret. 

Leon met them in the hall, hat in hand, 
and announced his intention of accom- 
panying them wherever they should go 
for the night. A few hurried words from 
Lispeth informed him of their plans, and 
then they all descended the stairs to- 
gether. 

Mr. Arnstein had been pacing up and 
down the long drawing-room during this 
interval. The strength of his passion 
seemed to have spent itself, but a fierce 
hatred filled his heart towards those who 
had thwarted him. The more he thought 
of his own position the more his ma- 
lignity increased, and especially towards 
Lispeth whom he unjustly accused in his 
mind of having deliberately plotted 
against him, and in some way having 
brought about this state of things. He 
thought of the casket, which he believed 


204 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

he had traced so successfully with the 
silken mitt as his clue that he had only 
one thread now to follow, and it would 
prove a sure guide to his long sought 
treasure. The question with him now 
was whether or not he should follow it 
up? Could he see a stranger, and above 
all a Christian profiting by all his years 
of dilligent searching? No, a thousand 
times no! Better let the secret of its 
hiding place remain a secret forever so far 
as he was concerned. Mr. Arnstein had 
arrived at this conclusion when he saw 
Lispeth descending the stairs followed by 
Leonora and Leon. The sight of them 
aggravated him. He instinctively felt 
that Lispeth was secretly exulting over 
him, and he could not resist intercepting 
her as they passed through the hall. Le- 
onora stopped an instant, and would have 
spoken a few words of farewell to her 
grandfather, but a quick wave of his hand 
towards the door, and a sudden flash in 
his eye warned her that it would not be 
wise, so she followed Leon into the street. 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 205 

“I shall abandon all search for the 
casket now/’ hissed Mr. Arnstein in Lis- 
peth’s ear, catching her by the arm at the 
same time. 

“You should have done so long ago. 
I knew you would never find it,” returned 
Lispeth, shaking herself free from his 
grasp. 

“The girl will never have her inher- 
itance!” exclaimed Mr. Arnstein in tri- 
umphant tones. 

“She will have her inheritance, I say!” 
cried the old woman, and her voice fairly 
rung with joy and exultation as she threw 
a brown paper parcel at the feet of the 
astonished man; then, while he stooped 
to pick it up, she hurried through the 
street door and closed it behind her with 
a bang. 

Mr. Arnstein hastily unwrapped the 
parcel, and there lay in his hand a soft 
black silken mitt. The peculiar and deli- 
cate design was only too familiar. He 
knew that it was the long sought for mate 
to the one already in his possession. He 


206 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

started as if shot, passed his hand across 
his forehead, while a wild look came into 
his eyes; then he made a dash towards 
the front door, but ere he could reach it 
he fell prostrate on the floor. 


THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 


207 


XVIII. 

Five years glided swiftly by, bringing 
many changes into the lives of those 
whom we have followed through the pre- 
ceding chapters. We will look in upon 
them in their own homes once more be- 
fore we say adieu. Far apart are those 
homes, for the broad Atlantic rolls be- 
tween them; and far apart lie the paths 
which they are pursuing through life, yet 
they are near together in the highest and 
best sense. The bond of friendship be- 
tween Leonora and Leon has strength- 
ened as the years pass by. It is of such a 
kind that a diversity of thought and mode 
of life cannot affect it, for it is of the 
heart. The names of each are often on 
the lips of the different members of their 
separate households. A month never 
passes without bringing something 
which keeps the memory of each green 
in their hearts — a letter, or perhaps some 
simple gift. 


208 THE JEWESS , LEONORA . 

A handsome house in a handsome 
street in London. A luxuriously fur- 
nished room on the second floor, which 
looks out upon a triangular enclosure 
within which are a few shrubs, a patch 
of grass, and a fountain. Sitting by one 
of those windows towards the close of a 
day in early autumn might be seen 
an old man, whom one would have diffi- 
culty in recognizing as Enos Arnstein, 
so changed was he. Paralyzed in his left 
side he was no longer able to use the arts 
with which in former years he had sought 
to conceal the marks of time. His hair 
was snowy white and fell in scanty locks 
upon his shoulders. Physically he was 
a wreck of his former self; but, saddest 
of all, the light of reason in those once 
keen, piercing eyes had fled, and in its 
place was a vacant, wandering look piti- 
ful to see. On a low table in front of him 
was the same map over which he had 
spent so much time in years gone by. In 
his imbecility the ruling passion of his 
life seemed to assert itself at times. Then 
he would trace with the forefinger of his 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 209 

right hand the red and blue lines, so care- 
fully marked out during that period of 
his life when he believed he would some 
day get into his possession the plots of 
ground, which now comprise some of the 
wealthiest and handsomest portions of 
the Cijty of New York. In a drawer of the 
table were several compartments filled 
with what this poor deranged mind be- 
lieved to be bank-notes and coins, so 
nearly like the genuine had they been 
made to amuse the helpless man. He 
would count this sham money over and 
over again, and arrange it in piles before 
him with an accuracy of values, which 
would do credit to a most systematic 
mind. At those times so earnestly did 
he work that a feverish tinge would 
burn in his hollow cheeks, and his eyes 
would resume much of their old fire; 
then suddenly he would sweep all of his 
fancied wealth into the drawer in a con- 
fused mass and would sink back in his 
chair utterly exhausted, only to begin 
the same work over again when the spirit 
moved him. On this particular day he 


210 THE JEWESS , LEONORA. 

had not touched his map nor counted his 
wealth; but had seemed weaker than 
usual. He lay back in the chair most of 
the time with eyes closed. Occasionally 
when he did open them they seemed more 
vacant — more expressionless than ever. 
Once in a while a strange unintelligible 
sound would break from his lips ending 
in low mutterings, which would continue 
some minutes. His attendant had 
watched him carefully all day, giving him 
nourishment oftener than usual, think- 
ing thus to revive his fast failing strength. 

From an adjoining room, separated 
only by an archway, came the soft, coo- 
ing sound of a young child as she sat on 
the floor on a thick rug with pillows at 
her back and toys all around her. About 
eight months’ old was the little Leonora 
Arnstein, the pride and joy of the house. 
Save for Leon’s handsome eyes, she 
strongly resembled the young mother 
sitting by a window occupied with a piece 
of delicate embroidery. 

Soon the little one, catching sight of a 
figure, which appeared in the doorway, 


TEE JEWESS, LEONORA. 211 

stretched forth her arms and crowed with 
delight. The young wife sprang up to 
meet her husband, who embraced her lov- 
ingly; then turning to the little Leonora, 
who was still imploring him in her own 
baby way to take her, he caught her in 
his arms and tossed her high above him 
to the child's great delight. 

“Baby Leonora, do you know that you 
have a new cousin far over the sea?" 

“Ah, then the letter has arrived at last. 
I am so glad. Tell me about it, dear," 
said the young mother. 

“You may read it yourself, little wife," 
replied Leon, drawing it from his pocket. 
It is from Dr. Leighton himself. His 
boy was three weeks old the day he wrote 
and — " Leon hesitated and looked to- 
wards the helpless figure in the adjoining 
room. 

“Go on, dearest. There is something 
more to tell I am sure." 

“And on that same day," continued 
Leon, “both mother and child received 
Christian baptism." 


212 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

The words were scarcely spoken when 
a strange sound — almost a yell burst 
from the lips of the sick man; and, with 
what seemed superhuman strength he 
assumed an upright position, raised his 
arm and looked towards Leon, standing 
just beyond the archway, with a light 
shining in his eyes during those few mo- 
ments as if reason had again returned to 
that darkened mind, and as if he had 
heard and understood the import of those 
words. Leon sprang towards his uncle, 
but, ere he reached his side, the shrunken 
form had fallen back, and the light had 
died out of his eyes. A slight pressure 
of the hand which Leon lifted and held 
within his own, a few feeble attempts to 
speak, then the cord which bound Enos 
Arnstein to life snapped. He was no 
more. 

The evening of the same day which was 
Enos Arnstein’s last on earth found Leo- 
nora and Richard sitting together in the 
library of their beautiful home on the 
Hudson. The curtains were drawn and 


TEE JEWESS , LEONORA . 213 

a bright fire burned upon the hearth, for 
the evening was cool. Very sad at heart 
were they by reason of a freshly made 
grave in a little cemetery about a mile 
away. A plain marble headstone — 
with only the words — “Lispeth, Born 
1775, Died 1854,” cut in its pure 
whiteness told that it was the last 
resting place of her whose life had been 
one of untiring devotion first to the son 
then to the grandchild of Felix Sturmer’s 
second wife. The secret of the tie which 
bound together the exiled Polish Jewess 
and the proud English woman died with 
Lispeth. She could never bring herself 
to tell her own history for she knew that 
the sorrow, which had turned her hair 
gray at an early age, and had cast a 
shadow over her own life, was closely 
linked with that which had bowed the 
head of the haughty, yet noble minded, 
generous hearted English woman to the 
dust, causing her to seek a home in a for- 
eign land, where, after a few years resi- 
dence she became the wife of Felix Stur- 


314 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

mer. Both innocent sufferers through 
the evil doing of one man whom each had 
trusted, and whom each had loved in a 
different way, they had cast their lots to- 
gether — Lispeth, glad to serve in the ca- 
pacity of a maid, or more properly speak- 
ing — companion, one to whom she owed 
a debt of gratitude, which she believed 
the service of a lifetime could not repay. 
Love for the woman who had befriended 
her in her hour of deepest trial, loyalty 
to her memory sealed Lispeth’s lips, but 
she died happy knowing that Karl Stur- 
mer’s little one — the darling of her heart 
was a loving wife and happy mother. 

On a table near Richard and Leonora 
was a handsome casket of rose wood, the 
one so diligently sought by Enos Arn- 
stein, who little dreamed that for years it 
lay hidden in the cellar of his own house 
in New York, only to be moved when 
Lispeth bought the little cottage in the 
Highlands, where she passed the last 
years of her life. The key had been in 
Enos Arnstein’s possession many years. 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 215 

He found it when he successfully traced 
the casket to its first hiding place, from 
whence it had been taken by some one 
who had forestalled him, leaving the 
silken mitt, the mate to which he tried to 
find for six long years. So it was neces- 
sary to force open the lid, which, when 
raised, disclosed to view a tray lined with 
faded blue velvet containing several com- 
partments in which were some rare and 
costly jewels. These jewels were all that 
was left of the wealth which once be- 
longed to Felix Sturmer’s English wife. 
In one of the compartments Leonora 
found an oval-shaped locket encircled 
with pearls, containing a portrait of a 
woman. She knew as she gazed upon 
the proud, beautiful features that it was 
her grandmother — the one who had once 
worn these jewels, and she wondered if 
the mother, too, would have cast from 
her the son who had loved and married a 
Jewess. 

Beneath the tray was the money in gold 
which the eccentric old man had placed 


216 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

there for the son he had disowned. Not 
a large fortune as fortunes are counted in 
New York at the present day, but a 
goodly sum, which forty years ago would 
have enabled Enos Arnstein to carry out 
his cherished plans. 

The letters, too, which Lispeth had so 
carefully kept for years, were there beside 
the casket. The one from Carl Sturmer 
to his daughter, with directions to give it 
to her when the proper time should come, 
had been in Leonora’s possession since 
her marriage day. It was full of tender- 
ness and love for the little one whom he 
must leave to the care of “faithful Lis- 
peth.” He admonished Leonora to love 
and care for the good woman all her days, 
“for,” wrote he, “she has done much for 
you and yours.” He begged her to think 
tenderly of those who had cast him off 
when she should learn from Lispeth the 
story of his marriage. Then, with a 
prayer that she should love and revere 
the memory of her parents always, he 
closed the letter. Leonora had read this 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 217 

letter many times, and on this night she 
had brought it out to read again, as she 
looked over the contents of the casket. 
The letter which Felix Sturmer wrote to 
his son was very brief. In fact, it seemed 
as if he had tried to tell Karl in as few 
words as possible the provision which he 
had made for him and where to find the 
casket. There was not one tender, for- 
giving word in the whole epistle. There 
was nothing in those lines which could 
possibly mislead the one to whom it was 
written into thinking that his father ever 
desired to see him again. 

It was well that Karl Sturmer never 
saw his father’s letter. It would have 
been a sad blow to his hopes for he had 
always looked forward to the day when he 
would be received among his own peo- 
ple again. He died before the letter 
reached its destination. He left Leonora 
to the care of “faithful Lispeth,” giving 
her permission to open any letters which 
might come to him, and charging her to 
take his little one to his father’s people if 


218 THE JEWESS , LEONORA . 

they should ever express a desire to have 
her with them. Karl Stunner’s love for 
his old home and his own people was 
strong to the last. 

Accompanying Felix Stunner’s letter 
to his son was one from Lispeth, care- 
fully written in English, bearing the date 
June 16th, 1843. The day on which Enos 
Arnstein had told her what he had 
learned of the Sturmer family, and had 
tried to find out whether she knew the 
whereabouts of Marie Rabowski. The 
letter read as follows: — 

“To Leonora Sturmer, the child of Karl 
Sturmer, and rightful owner of the 
casket, these lines are penned : — 

“I have kept this letter with the one 
from your father as a proof of your right 
to the inheritance, which came too late 
for him to leave to you himself. I knew 
Felix Sturmer, your grandfather, and the 
other members of that family well enough 
never to attempt to ask of them any rec- 
ognition of the child of Judith Arnstein, 
the Jewess. But I determined to go to 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 219 

Felix Sturmer and ask him for the jewels 
to which he referred in his letter; also to 
ask him to put in a safe place, in trust for 
you, that share of his wealth which he 
had set aside for your father. I left you 
in good hands and started on my journey, 
reaching my destination just too late to 
see Felix Sturmer alive. He had died the 
night before. It did not take me long to 
decide what to do. I formed the plan of 
carrying away the casket just as he had 
commanded his son to do — “without 
making his presence known to any mem- 
ber of his family” — for, I reasoned, had 
the letter reached Karl Sturmer before 
his death, he would have been obliged to 
send for it, and whom could he have sent 
but me? Who knew better than I every 
nook and corner of his old home? 
So the day which saw the mourn- 
ing family, the relatives, friends, and 
a retinue of servants, slowly moving 
towards the chapel where the services 
weretobe held, and where the body of Fe- 
lix Sturmer was to be placed in the tomb 


220 THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 

of his ancestors, saw me, disguised as a 
peasant woman, making my way to a re- 
mote portion of the grounds where the 
casket lay hidden. The risk of detection 
was great notwithstanding the fact that 
most of the servants had followed their 
master to his last resting place, for there 
were several men left in charge of the 
premises. 

“Although Felix Sturmer selected a 
strange place to hide the casket, he also 
arranged it so that it could be easily re- 
moved. It was the work of but a few 
minutes to lift aside three loose planks in 
the floor of a small summer-house at the 
extreme end of a long narrow lake in the 
grounds, and to dig away a few inches of 
soft earth beneath. There lay an iron 
chest, the lid of which I lifted and saw a 
rose wood jewel-casket, which I recog- 
nized as belonging to my dear friend and 
great benefactress, Karl’s mother. I has- 
tily lifted out the casket, replaced the lid 
of the chest, and spread the earth 
smoothly over it once more, then, slip- 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA . 221 

ping the planks back into their places, I 
departed with the casket. Those who 
passed the peasant woman with her heavy 
basket of eggs, seemingly on her way to 
market, little dreamed how precious was 
her load. But it was not so easy a mat- 
ter to bring the treasure to this country, 
and conceal it from the shrewd man who 
was determined to get possession of it. 
Ere I had found a man, commanding a 
vessel sailing between England and 
America, to whom I had once rendered a 
service, and who was willing to help me 
in return, and, ere I had reached port 
after a long and tedious journey, Enos 
Arnstein had learned of the death of both 
Felix Sturmer and his son; and had 
started out in search of his daughter to 
learn the truth concerning the casket. 
He found that his daughter, too, was 
dead, but he claimed you, her child, and 
is bringing you up as his own. When 
and under what circumstances you may 
read these lines I cannot tell, my darling. 
I only know that you will some day come 


222 


THE JEWESS, LEONORA. 


into possession of your rightful inherit- 
ance. And, as you look back upon your 
life and the years we have passed to- 
gether, I hope you will believe that I have 
acted under all circumstances for your 
good, that your happiness has ever been 
my chief aim. I ask in return only a lov- 
ing remembrance from you, my precious 
one. 

“Marie Elizabeth Rabowski.” 


THE END. 



A 





